One Easter Sunday, about 12 years ago, we went to Mass at a church in Palm Beach, Florida. It was a new church for us as we were on vacation. I remember the beautiful building and the very blonde people in attendance. But what I most remember is the sermon.
The sermon was about faith. The priest talked about a boy holding onto a kite on a foggy day. The boy cried when he couldn't see his kite and told his parents he "lost" the kite. They told him it was still there even though he couldn't see it. "How do you know?" asked the boy. The parents told him to "feel" it. The little boy looked at the string wrapped around his finger and concentrated on feeling the kite. When he felt the "pull", he smiled knowing the kite was there.
Even though I've lost 28.4 pounds, most people I know can't see the change in me. I am discouraged that I will ever be normal sized.
Yesterday, my younger son hugged me to thank me for taking him to his competition and putting up with the stress of the week. This "thank you hug" was longer than usual. When it was over, he smiled and said, "I'm really proud of you. I can feel a big difference in your size."
Just when I was about to lose faith in myself, he restored it.
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