Pick Five

And so it begins. When I wake tomorrow, I shall endeavor to eat five simple foods for 40 days. Brown rice, edamame, spinach, almonds and apples. I have chosen the foods for their nutritional value, versatility, and taste. I will drink only water.

The inception of Pick Five was a few weeks ago, when I became suddenly and painfully aware of the abundance I have, and my inability to understand its value. Not only had I taken for granted that my plate was always full, but had forgotten to consider those who dream of such comfort.

Pick Five is a simplification. It is not a fast. It is not a diet. It is not a craze. It is an exercise in living simply, seeking God and His purposes, considering and caring for others, and sharing the lessons I learn with my family and friends. I hope you take the journey with me.

PS: Did you see that picture? I should be so lucky to eat at such a banquet.

PPS: So sorry that tomorrow is a sabbath, although I think it most appropriate. You'll have to wait until Day Two to hear from me!

Piece of Cake!

So, of course I haven't done any specialty cake orders for over a month, and now I have not one, but THREE cake orders. When are they? ALL WITHIN THE FIRST WEEK of my Pick Five. No testing the frosting. No eating the cake trimmings. No licking the bowl. This will be a test, fo sho. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.

The Lineup

My Pick-Five Final Line Up:
1. Almonds

2. Brown Rice

3. Spinach

4. Edamame

5. Apples!!!

Yes, the last pick is the sweetest. Apples are balancing out the remainder of the vitamin spectrum and adding some crispity crunch. I plan to start each day with a delicious rosy apple (like Jonagold or Fuji) and then have 1/2 an apple later when I need that afternoon snack. Nature's candy, right? My sweet tooth sure hopes so.

I remember my sister took a field trip to Yosemite National Park with her junior high classmates. She described a long and difficult hike up one of Yosemite's peaks that took half the day. After sweating like a dog and exhausting her canteen, she stood at the top of the peak. And then proceeded to eat what was to be the most delicious and memorable apple of her whole life.

I love that story. It makes me want to eat an apple. Or 60.

Me, Myself, and My New Me

I'm laying here on the couch, and my stomach has turned into a food baby that's laying here beside me. I'm stuffed. I didn't have an enormous dinner. Okay, so I had second helpings, but it was pretty healthy stuff. I think it was the cookie dough after dinner that did me in.

Let me just confess. Every waking moment lately, I am fighting the urge to have a pre-Pick Five Mardi Gras. I want to totally go Veruca Salt and have cream buns and doughnuts and fruitcake with no nuts so good you could go nuts. Give it to me now. Actually all of that stuff sounds pretty gross. But I could go for a big bowl of mint chip ice cream and a cold tall glass of chocolate milk about now.

I have this little control problem all the time. I fight the urge to leave gigantic teeth marks in the 2 lb. block of colby jack in the deli drawer. And I try not to eat the third or fourth bowl of cereal in the morning. I argue with myself and say motivating things to myself like, "C'mon, how bad do you want to fit into those jeans again?" and "It's so not worth it." But then I tell myself to shut the hell up, who asked you, and eat whatever it was that I was arguing about. I guess my inner personal trainer ain't as tough as she thought she was.

But I always thought the idea of Mardi Gras was a load of crap. If you're preparing for a solemn event in which you discipline yourself for the sake of God, maybe it's not so good to go crazy and turn glutton the day before. (Kind of like bachelor parties. Don't get me started.)

I am so close, so close. I have to keep it together for four more days. I know that when my 40-day Pick Five starts, that's it. My discipline won't be coming from my own strength at that point, thank the Lord. And I know that I won't have these internal discussions any more. Personal Trainer Me will be gone, and Indulgent Me will be gone, too. In fact, I'm not sure Me will even be there. Just a frame of me, waiting to be filled with the New Me.

And that's motivation enough to sober up for the event.

You Know You Want To

As I have prepared and posted and conversed about this little thing I'm getting ready to do, I have received all kinds of response.

Some people have been skeptical:

"You're gonna be hungry."

"You're not gonna make it."

Some have been intrigued:

"Ooh. What a neat idea."

"Hmm... what will you eat?"

Some have been flat out puzzled:

"Oh. How about that."

"Cool... I don't really get it."

(This last one was my husband, by the way.)

But most of you have been really kind and supportive. Please don't stop. Because I haven't even started yet.

I know that this is going to be a special 40 days. And I know that I'll look back on this time in my life. I hope that it is the beginning of something bigger, something bigger than me, that God has planned and is setting into motion. I can only pray that I am allowed to be part of it.

I want to invite you along.

If you feel the urge, start to plan. Pick your five, and come along for the ride. It will not be unfruitful. Pray and see if it's something for you. And let me know if you're with me.

But even if you don't, I appreciate your support immensely. I'll leave it at that.

(By the way, use nutritiondata.com. I used it to balance all my nutrients, make sure I was getting enough calories and protein, and it was crucial in the decision making process. And if you're totally lost, read the "About Me"; it explains what I'm inviting you to do.)

Test Run

Wow, am I glad I did some test runs on this food! Have you ever had a bowl of rice and edamame with loads of pepper but no salt? YUCK!

(Oh, yeah. By the way, I also chose edamame.)

1. Brown rice

2. Almonds

3. Spinach

4. Edamame

What's edamame? (My 5-year old calls it eat-a-mommy. He thinks this is hilarious.) It's a baby soybean, boiled in the pod and salted. Loaded with protein and low in fat, it beats the nutritional pants off beans. I'll let you discover it for yourself if you haven't already. And if you have, you feel me, right? It's a good one, am I right? Right? You think it's a good choice, don't you? I can totally eat it for forty days. No problem. I think. (Can you tell I'm starting to have serious doubts about all this?)

But also in doing a test run, I'm making an executive decision to switch from pepper to salt for my single seasoning. No salt? What was I thinking? Salt is so perfect, it's biblical. I mean, even God likes salt. And Job said it perfectly: "Is tasteless food eaten without salt? ... I refuse to touch it; such food makes me ill." Job 6:6-7 After eating a bowl of peppered rice, I couldn't agree more.

So, no pepper. Salt. Tap tap no trade backs.

Parting thought: I want you to think about this -- what would you pick if you were doing this? What five things could you stand to look at, day in and day out, for forty days? What would you have to give up? Just think it over. Mull it around. Then, tomorrow, I'll have a follow-up question for you. Stay tuned.

Eight Days and Counting

My Pick Five simplification is so close. I'm beginning to feel the waves of preparation and anticipation flow through me. It's like the deep breath before plunging to the bottom of the pool.

The cool thing is, that I have already started to see changes in me and, in turn, my family. As some of you may know, my daughter hosted a lemonade stand a couple of weeks ago to raise money for Casa Hogar, an orphanage in Mexico. I told her that her reward was in heaven for doing such a selfless thing. She smiled ear to ear. That's beautiful, but not the whole story.

So, a couple of days ago I told her that she was going to help me this Saturday in giving hotdogs to the homeless in Austin. My son, who is five, said he wanted to join us. (I'm thinking "hotdog" must have struck him as something he wanted to be involved in.) So I asked him why he wanted to go. His answer: "Because, um... maybe... I think I want to get an award in heaven, too."

What a lovely thing, that he would have tucked that phrase away in his little heart for MORE THAN A WEEK as something special. Something that he aspired to obtain. During this 40-day Pick Five exercise, there will be an emphasis in my house on the needy, the hungry, the oppressed. Being that my kids have everything they need, I think it's important for them to know that not every child does.

And there are things that we can do to help.

As for the reward in heaven, a little delayed gratification never hurt a kid.

Sometimes You Just Need a...

Pass.

Strong to the Finish

'Cause I eats me spinach. I'm Popeye the sailor man. Toot toot!

Yep:

1. Almonds

2. Brown Rice

3. Spinach

Spinach is a delicious and nutritious leafy green. It is rich in Vitamins A, C, K and folate. It is mildly anti-inflammatory and can be eaten raw or lightly steamed.

Popeye knew what he was doing, because this is one food that's packed with some serious punch.

By the way, did anyone else ever notice that Popeye's, "I yam what I yam and that's all that I yam," rings eerily similar to, "I AM THAT I AM," found in Exodus 3:14? Except one is a cartoon character and one is, oh, I don't know... GOD?! I always thought that was strange.

Three down, two to go. Any suggestions? (Feel free to comment at any time.)

Nothing to Eat

How many times have you opened the fridge or pantry, stared into it, only to shut it again? How many times today?

In my pantry right now I have over 75 food items,

and my fridge has more than 35 food choices,

four beverage options, and 28 condiments.

Why do I feel like I have nothing to eat?

And it's all just one more reason I am preparing for my Pick Five challenge. My idea of "nothing to eat" is gravely erroneous.

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

I'm sort of embarrassed to think how many times I have answered the question, "What's wrong?" with, "I need coffee." Sometimes people get this pained look and say, "Hey, is everything all right?" and I answer, "I just need coffee." Within my close circle, it's become quite known. "Come on over; I'll throw on a pot for you." Even my kids have got my number. When my kiddo was two and a half, she called me out in the van one day: "Mommy, you grumpy. You need coffee?"

Sadly, coffee has become a condition of my personality.

So, here I stand at the doorway to Pick Five. I'm holding rice and almonds and I've tucked water and pepper into my pocket. But do I NEED coffee? There's a voice, right now as I'm typing, that is screaming in my head, "YES! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YES! YES! A THOUSAND TIMES YES!" But I know that there are nutritious things that I need, that I shouldn't sacrifice, for this addiction I have. But... it's coffee... I know I could ween -- I'd need to start soon -- but I just. like. coffee. so. much.

And I think that is exactly that why I can't take it with me on my 40-day journey.

So sorry, old friend. I'll see you on the other side.

Loopholes

Why am I trying to find loopholes in my own game? Ever since I started thinking about narrowing my food plate to five items, I have been barraged with questions from my friends, and have been battling within myself...

Does coffee count?

What about spices?

Can you switch one of your five halfway through?

Can it be a complex food like tortillas, or does it have to be in its natural state?

I'm ready to throw the whole thing out, and I haven't even started. It is so in my nature to rebel against the rules. It seems silly. I should want to follow them, right? I made them. I mean, I suppose it's my prerogative to bend them/break them/ignore them. But I'm not going to get tied up in rules and stuff. This is an exercise in simplicity, after all.

However -- I am going to allow WATER as a freebie. And I figure, everyone in the world has access to something that they can crush up and put on their food, so I'm allowing ONE SPICE not to count.

So, sue me. I'm tucking water and pepper into my pocket (but no salt, eek).

And my second food for my 40-day Pick Five is.... par-a-dum-da-da-dum...

2. Brown Rice

I love a good complex carbohydrate. They are good fillers, rich in energy producing stuff, and brown rice has a lot of fiber, which I am all too scared I'll need. Also, you can't beat the bite and nutty flavor of this delicious staple.

1. Almonds

2. Brown Rice

So far, so brown. Better get some color soon.

Don't Call it a Diet

"I don't get it."

"What?"

"This whole 'pick five' thing of yours."

"Well, for 40 days, starting on August 1st..."

"I know, but why?"

"I want to learn something."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know yet."

It started with a stirring. I told you, Willy Wonka and Zambia and all that (see previous posts if you're totally confused). I know that I need the simplicity and the perspective that Pick Five will provide. And there were some other factors that led me to a place where I want to take a sharp needle, reach out, and pop the bubble of my family and close friends with which I have insulated myself. But I have a confession. I don't know what I'm going to learn from this. I only know that I'm going to learn something.

Here's what I do know. As my friend Jen Hatmaker reminded me in her new book, if we claim to love Jesus, we are called to feed His lambs. Undefiled worship is taking care of the broken and oppressed. I'm praying that with my Pick Five simplification (don't call it a diet), God will show me things that stand in my way of being His servant. And then work them out in me, so that I might go. So that I might go.

Choose Wisely

I’m really only two weeks away from the start of my Pick Five. I think I better cough up one of my choices.

Chocolate chip cookies.

What? That’s a good choice! Oh, except that has 9 ingredients. Too many, too bad. Yes, I’m that serious.

I feel like Indiana Jones in the “Last Crusade” as he’s standing in the temple of the Holy Grail. The seven hundred year old grail knight warns, “You must choose. But choose wisely.” There is a beautiful buffet of options, most of which are visually appealing, but only one is life-sustaining. I certainly don’t want to end up like Donovan. No skin turning brown and leathery and stretching across my bones until it splits, thankyouverymuch. “He chose… poorly.” (Don’t be mad at me for that description. I lifted it verbatim from the screenplay.)

So, what then? Okay. This is it. No going back….

1. Almonds.

There. That wasn’t so hard.

Almonds are a low-carbohydrate, nutrient-rich food. They've also got some protein punch, and although they are high in fat, very little of it is saturated fat. Almonds are a "superfood", which is only to say that the health and nutrition industry wants to sell more of them. But I did learn something. There is a thing called an IF rating, which is not a game of craps but rather a scale to rate inflammation factors in foods. Who gives a crap? Well, this isn't news to many, but I have Rheumatoid Arthritis , which is punctuated by periods of inflammation that lead to joint damage, and eventually deformation (and can only be spelled by those who have it). So, I give a crap. And almonds happen to be a natural anti-inflammatory. And a great snack food. So there. Almonds.

Lap of Luxury

"In areas where a wide variety of foods are abundantly available, people may not eat certain foods simply because they do not like them. Many areas of the world, however, cannot afford this luxury." --Foods & Nutrition Encyclopedia

I'm not picky. At all. I love food. Nearly all of it. I won't eat liver or tripe again, but I tried a grilled bull testicle at a Fourth of July party this year. I must confess, I really just wanted to watch my mother-in-law cringe as I chewed it up. (Don't eat a bull testicle, by the way.) But aside from the rare animal part the only other thing the good Lord has granted me a distaste for is flaky pastry. Yes, I don't like donuts. Nor danishes. Nor cinnamon rolls. And no, I'm not skinny.

But I am TOTALLY guilty of grabbing a Tupperware container filled with leftovers (this concept is a whole other topic) checking under the lid, and inadvertently letting my lip curl Elvis-style. I so often put it back. It was delicious last night! I should be so lucky to have an abundance, that I might enjoy the delicacy the next day as well.

So, I can say all I want that I'm not picky. Because right now, I can eat whatever I want. Let's see if that stands up to the Pick Five.

Das It?

Last night, I was wiped out. It'd been a long day. Work in the morning, WALKING home from work in the midday heat, an errand that involved a long drive in the afternoon with all three kids, and then coming home and trying to save CPS a trip to my house by picking up a bit. Dinner time? Fuggetaboutit.

My left hand wrestled with my right hand to put down the phone before I dialed the seventh "4", and I decided to fix something myself. I cooked up some brown rice, lima beans and sweet corn and mixed them all together in a dish I like to call, "It'll Make a Poop."

When I put it on the table for the kids in individual bowls and big spoons and tall glasses of milk, my youngest (barely four) says, "Das it, Mommy? One fing?"

This is the question she asks at every meal. Lunch:

"Das it, Mommy? Two fings?"

"Yep, two things." (PB&J, applesauce)

"Das not enough."

"Just eat."

Dinner:

"Das it? Jus free fings?"

"Yep, three things." (Grilled chicken, broccoli, rice)

"Das not enough."

"Just eat."

It is enough. It is. I know it is. It's more than enough. Because even though every day I make PB&J's for my kids for lunch, that's three items right there. Bread, peanut butter, jelly. And then add a fruit and sometimes a carb like goldfish or pretzels, and you're up to five things, and then milk or juice -- six different things in one meal! And every day is a plethora of choices, a cornucopia of culinary diversity.

When my kid says, "Das it?" to a healthy, balanced meal with ample leftovers, and I joke about its lack of appeal, I know it's time for Pick Five. I know that I can't possibly appreciate the ridiculous variety of food that is readily available, until I take it away.

(Don't worry. My kids will eat the same "Das It?" meals they always eat. This experiment is not family-inflicted, just self.)

Preparing for Pick Five

So, here's where it starts:

I was watching Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory (1971) for the 10,000th time last week and watched Charlie bring home a loaf of bread to feed his family. They called it a banquet. I don't know why this scene waited until this most recent viewing to punch me in the gut.

Then, my teenage cousins just came back from Africa. One of the many reality-checks they were faced with was the simplicity of the Zambian diet. Basically, nshima, a corn/water porridge. And most of the kiddos that my cousins encountered were lucky to get two small bowls a day. Most lived off one.

And then, there's me. Yesterday I ate:

Breakfast: Coffee with cream, two large bowls of Oh!s cereal with milk.

Lunch: Peanut butter and jelly sandwich, applesauce, pretzels, leftover beans & rice.

While making dessert for a barbecue I ate the equivalent of 3 pieces of cake.

Dinner: Three different kinds of chips, baked beans, broccoli salad, sausage, a hamburger with all the toppings, one and a half pieces of carrot cake, one piece of chocolate cake.

Before bed: One more piece of carrot cake.

Conservatively, 4300 calories. And roughly 17 different foods.

I am sick just thinking about it. But instead of shoving another piece of cake down my throat to deal with my anxiety, I have made a decision. For 40 days, beginning August 1st, I'm going to limit my diet to five things. I get to pick the five, but only five. For 40 days.

More on this later.