It all started with the plum-colored dress--handsewn with hundreds of minute purple beads and sequins that glittered in the light. When I wore the floor-length gown, I thought I looked good in it, but when I saw pictures of myself wearing the dress, I felt disappointed and self-conscious.  The photos indicated I'd gained a significant amount of weight.  I knew I'd gained weight over the last two years--in fact weighed more than at nine months pregnant with one of my children.  And now I saw the reality--in a living shade the color of wine.  

And so I stepped out of contemplating that it would be a good idea to lose weight, and moved toward action--toward the grocery store.  I told my husband I couldn't stand the extra weight anymore and decided to do something about it.  He didn't say much, but helped me unload more vegetables, lean meats, fruit and nuts when I returned from Harris Teeter.

Two days later Giovanni and I are facing each other at the dinner table.  In an attempt to support me on the new eating plan, he grilled chicken that I cut up over fresh greens.  I am happily eating when the explosion happens.

"Priscilla, what are you doing?  I see a diet coke can sitting here on the table.  I found another one in the garage.  You take all this time and energy and money to be healthier and lose weight and now I see you cheating."  He sat there red-faced and practically panting. "I don't understand you."

So many things went through my head, like "Often you don't understand me.  We don't speak the same language--literally--and often we don't speak each other's love language."  I took a deep breath and said, "Who are you to comment on what I do with my body?  It's none of your business."  Bad response. Defensive.

"I know more of who you are now," he sputtered.  "I knew you'd get mad.  I almost didn't say anything.  But, really, I want you to succeed.  And you're cheating. I bought two cases of sparkling water for you, because I know you like the carbonation in the diet cokes."

And then I kicked into a better place.  "You're disappointed that I cheated and that I don't seem to be too worried about it."  "Yes," he said.  "That's it.  If you're going to do this, do it right."  Then I rolled over on my belly, so to speak, and said to my truth-telling agent from God.  "I've used diet cokes for a long time as a way to reward myself when I have a sweet tooth.  It's hard for me to think of giving them up totally."  Giovanni nodded and gave me a loving look.  "You can do it, Priscilla.  I've seen you focused on so many other things in your life--working every day at the same job for nineteen years--writing books--so many things. You can do this too."  

And so I am.  Recently I found a set of four plates that are etched with blue geographical depictions.  The name of the design is "Due North."  They are perfect for these changes I'm making as they are smaller than a regular-sized dinner plate to encourage more modest portions.  And "Due North" is a metaphorical reminder that in this new phase of getting healthier I continue to point toward my authentic "Due North" who is Jesus, the One who uses so many creative paths to assure me that He plans new things to come--perhaps even another occassion to wear the purple beaded gown--lighter, healther, effervescent as the bubbles in my sparkling water.