Full Disclosure

In the time I have had this blog, I have written about my struggle with anorexia a time or two, so no one is unaware of that demon in my life. However, in the years I have had this blog, I had also been experiencing a time of sobriety and freedom. 

I am not in a time like that right now. If I am completely and utterly honest, I am terrified to eat. 

The past few weeks have been excruciatingly difficult for me as I have begun to wrestle with demons new and old. I have returned to seeing a nutritionist and am currently waiting for a bi-weekly eating disorder support group to begin. I have headed back to war again my “food issues” because with all that has happened to me this past year and a half, the demons are screaming lies at me. Lies I have been hearing since I was young have been coming to the surface in ways which are proving difficult to fight. I am tormented with thoughts like “Everyone is mad at you.” and “They all hate you and are sick of you”. I hear silence from friends as “No one wants you” or “Who do you even think you are to think someone would love you”. I live in constant fear that everyone else is going to figure out how terrible I am and leave. And what it all boils down to, and the biggest lie I hear and listen to is simply…

“I am a worthless piece of crap”. 

Now I do not write this so that you guys will call me and remind me this is not true. I KNOW it is not true, but I struggle to believe it is not true. I, at times, cannot believe that what has been done to me would have been done if I were a worthwhile person. And what does this constant struggle have to do with food? For years, I could not make the connection, but I finally did a few weeks ago.

Because after nearly ten years of breaking down trauma and heartache and fighting anorexia, I had a break through when I realized that I don’t eat because I do not think I am worthy of food. I do not think I am worthy of sitting at a table and nourishing my body. I am so bad and awful that I starve myself. I want to disappear and I do not believe I deserve to take up space, so I physically make myself take up less space by being underweight. 

My nutritionist said something to me in her office last week as I wept from sheer panic and exhaustion.  I told her I don’t deserve to eat and she reminded me that “even murderers and rapists in prison get to eat three times a day and as far as I know, you have done neither of those things”. 

So that is where I am right now. I have had some major successes in the past few weeks and am feeling encouraged in this battle, but the more I realize how deep the enemy has his claws in me with this lie, the more I realize it’s a long hard battle I have to fight. And it’s in those moments, when the battle feels so huge and I feel like I am facing Goliath with a slingshot and some rocks and he has this huge-ass sword, it’s in those moments that I remember that God fights with me, and when I cannot go on, He wars on my behalf. He does not merely throw a punch for me, He WARS on my behalf. He is kicking ass and taking names and in the end, He wins. 

And in the meantime, I will fight that lie. I will remember that truth that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, I am a daughter of the Most High King, I was created in the image of God, I am beloved, I am worthy, I am pure, I am priceless, I am forgiven, I am fought for, I am held close, I am never alone. I am a worthy, priceless treasure, and one day, I will sit down at the banquet table with the King, and I will eat and be full. 

And, before that day comes, I will fight this fight so that I can sit down at the dinner table, nourish my body and believe the truth that I am worthy. And I pray that the women and men who struggle with eating disorders will believe that they too, are worthy to be loved and nourished. God help us in our unbelief. 


It Never Runs out on Me…

There is a song that says “Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me…”, and we sang it at small group last night. (Yes, in stereotypical fashion, a group of Christians sat around with an acoustic guitar, shocking, I know!) Anyway, I was thinking about those lyrics, and I don’t know what the author meant, but I know that people often sing those lyrics and think “it never runs out on me” means that it never runs dry, it never ends, it is never finished. And I guess that, for some people, that is a comforting thought, and it’s good and all, but I have never really struggled with God’s love running out, and Him not being able to love me anymore. 

I do struggle with being abandoned, though. Or the fear of it. And as I sang this song last night, I re-thought those words, and I heard in my heart, a small whisper that said “I will never, literally, run out on you”. He won’t. I will never get a call from God that says He got a job somewhere else and is leaving me. I will never come home and see God sitting on the staircase, ready to say goodbye. I will never pull up to my house, and see God’s SUV packed with his things. 

He will never run out on me. His love will never run out on me. It’s not going anywhere.

For me, for you, for anyone. 

His love never ends, it never leaves, it never fails. Even for the ones who do.