Renewal

Joel 2:25 (NLT)  The Lord says " I will give you back what you lost to the swarming locusts, the hopping locusts,  the stripping locust and the cutting locusts"

 I love this version of scripture from the NLT.  It is the perfect description of my past year.  I felt swarmed upon, and feeling helpless against the assault allowed the eating disorder to return and strip me down to an emotional and physical bareness; cutting myself apart bit by bit into small fractured pieces.

Today as I sit on my deck, I put my hope in this restoration.  I feel the restoration slowly coming through my body, my mind and most importantly my soul.  Sleep has returned, and I tolerate (not easily ) the weight. I feel a sense of normalcy returning to my life. And as I look out if the blue green waters of Walloon I find pleasure in the simple things, and of God's creation. I realize with a certain sadness how much of my life I allowed the " locusts"  to steal from me in the past year.

I love the early morning watching the sun peak over the hillside.  The sun is reflecting off the lake when not hidden behind quickly moving clouds.  The wind is cool and powerful as it ushers the clouds beyond the hill.  It is like God exhaling to reveal his splendid warmth and light of his creation.  It is this exhale that breaths new life into me.  Restoring me.

I fall into the silence of the moments before me.  I Want to soak it all in and savor  all that surrounds me.  I notice the ducks.  How do they swim so gracefully and effortlessly against the force of the wind? How easily they move in the rough water despite the gusting wind.  They are arrogant creatures.  They swim close into the shore just to aggravate the dogs.  The dogs tear after them, and they swim back towards the open water daring the dogs to come in after them.  The dogs retreat, and the ducks swim right back in to start the game over again and again.

There is no blue sky like the sky up her.  It is clear and vibrant.  The shades of blue vary from soft and pale, to bold and vibrant. The water's colors  shimmer in the sunlight like the hues found in precious gems of emeralds, sapphires and diamonds.  I want to be out on it on the paddle board breaking the surface, or under it hearing nothing but silence as a rise to the surface.  The water is cold as the ice turned just weeks ago, but still I want to enter it.

I look at my watch.  It is almost 9 am. and I should get up and ride, but I am so enjoying the sitting here on my deck watching the morning and summer on Walloon come to life.  Boats buzzing from the marina their engines being tested.  Children and grandchildren running down the hillside, plunging into the water despite the cold.  Growing up, yet still awed by  the simple pleasure of splashing in the water and rolling down the hill.  Puppies that have grown up, and dogs that have grown old, and new pups to replace the ones that didn't survive the winter.  Adel, almost 93 years old, no longer drives, but is still sharp and wise. The maple tree that was just an opportunistic sapling is now growing tall and gangly. It is not fully mature, but like an adolescent that has shot up quickly and waits to fill out.

New life is evident in minnows, tadpoles, June bugs, and May flies.  No signs of the fox.  It has been 2 years; I wonder where they have gone?  The scent of lilacs blooming come on the breath of the wind.  White ones intermingled with the lavender pale in color, but rich in fragrance.

The field on the hill is empty, but will soon be covered with cows and calves.  Sometimes when I can't see them I hear them.  This reminds of God's presence in my life.  Although I don't see him, I hear his voice.

I could stay here all day, but  knowing my ride will be just as enjoyable, I head out to the trail.  It is along the big water of the bay.  Again the water is colorful, but the bay has a power all its own.  Wave swell and crash upon the shore and over the break walls smashing the blues and greens into a fine mist that sparkles like diamonds  in the sun. Two small birds seem to lead my way.  I follow them until they disappear into the trees.  I travel on my own, breathing in the clean air allowing it to clear my mind.

I spend the rest of the day planting flowers and sitting on the dock drifting in and out of a welcomed nap until my neighbors ask me to go water skiing.  Are you kidding me?  Do they not know how cold the water is?  Ah what the heck...skiing before Memorial Day.  I am so in!  Did I mention how cold the water is?  I would do it again in a heart beat.

I am blessed, and for this brief time the pain and suffering of the past year fade like the sun setting behind the hills.

Ice Cold

Ice Cold

Dressed in flannel, wrapped in fleece
The scent of coffee fills the air
Each sips warms me from my center
Heat radiating like concentric rings
Flowing on the surface of the water
Disturbed by one small pebble

The water, like my soul, today is frozen
Cold, lifeless and desperate for warmth
It is a cold cocoon relishing the numbing sting
Of the bitter cold wind
Protecting the current of life running
Just below the surface
Where the rings of life are free to move
Undisturbed

The rigid surface hiding abundant life
Life that has remained dormant for a season
Curling in on its self preparing to emerge
Transformed
No longer small and lifeless
Unable to fly on wings untested
But on wings opened wide
Ready to soar

The ice moans and groans preparing
As it labors to give birth to the life it holds
It is guttural; it is primal
Wrought with pain and effort

The surface cracks
Fissures forming
Allowing signs of life to seep to the surface
It freezes
Becoming cold, still and frozen
One with the ice

It is like my soul laboring to rise
Only to be consumed
By its cold, icy surroundings
Or blown away in a fine crystallized mist

There is no life on the cold glassy surface
Yet still it moans and groans
Desiring to yield new life

Waiting for the gentle cleansing breath
Of springs warm breeze
To soften the jagged edges
That touch the shore

Waiting for the sun to create open space
Where the water can be moved by the wind
Forcing waves to erupt
Contracting against the ice

Breaking the facade
Allowing it to become one with the water
Free to flow; unencumbered
Revealing life transformed; able to fly
Capable of soaring

Motivation

Philippians 1:27 (NIV)  Whatever happens, conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ"

Although far from perfect, I try to conduct myself in a manner worthy of my savior.  And when I feel my integrity questioned, it angers and hurts me.  I have great motivation to keep moving forward and keep fighting for recovery.  I have little motivation to feign improvement, or report that I am feeling and doing better.  It is a hard arduous task.  Sometimes it is one day at a time.  Some days it is one bite at a time.  Sometimes it means feeling uncomfortable, fat and bloated. Some days it means feeling stronger, healthier, and more present.  Some days it means just feeling normal and realizing it in the dairy section of the market.

My weight is up around 6 pounds, and my body fat, although low at 10%, is out of the absolute danger zone of 7 %.  I am choosing to move forward despite the days of fear and discomfort.  I find my strength and courage in the Lord.  I try to keep my eyes on Him and who I am in him.  I AM getting better.  Yet how does one measure this?  Here is my great frustration.  I have no blood test, CT scan, or any other test that can measure my success other than the weight.  Yet, somehow, that doesn't even seem to be a true indication of wellness.  Hmmm?

So, do I sit and wait for someone to tell me I am well?  I seem to have everyone telling me what I should or shouldn't do anyways.  So, maybe I should just sit around and wait to be deemed well.  Is it my child like frame (that isn't so much any more), that makes it okay to be treated as a child?  Is it the fact that, yes malnutrition effects brain function?  So, is it assumed my intellect is faulty too.  By the way, where is the test to tell me that my brain is nourished and functioning normally?  Oh, and does it effect my integrity.  I know that anorexia is a powerful disease, but maybe, just maybe, I am usurping some of its power?

How do I ever prove that I am more powerful than it is without being given the chance.  Maybe I could run the 1/2 marathon June and if not continue to gain my weight at least remain stable.  If I am willing to entertain every ones opinions on why I shouldn't, then  could they at least entertain the reasons why I could.  "How do we know you won't slide back?"  They argue.  "How do you know I won't" I argue my point.  " The disease is big and powerful it has its own identity" Can I get a little credit here?  I know that I am not fully down the road of recovery,  See, I am not in denial. I know I didn't have a sense of how "scary" thin I had become.  Yet when I saw it I acted swiftly and on my own.  I didn't wait for my husband to okay it, nor did I check with my therapist.  Like the big girl that I am, I found a dietitian and followed her meal plans.  I have followed every freaking rule set before me regardless of my fear and discomfort.  I would just like to have the chance to show how far I've come; a chance to set a few of my own rules.

I do realize that everyone has my best interest in mind.  I realize, that unlike my mother their motives aren't punitive, yet I still feel like a grounded adolescent.  Well, I know the choice is mine to make, but now if I try and fail, will my support team abandon me?  Ugh!  Here is a news flash; I may never be fully recovered, but when will I be free to try to step out on my own without the fear of abandonment if I falter?  It feels like I am being subjected to a crude form of behavior modification, only I am not really clear what to do to earn the coveted prize.  I am tired of feeling like a child.

I don't know if I am irritated with all those telling me don't, or myself and the anorexia for getting me here in the first place.  I know there are a lot of people that chose to give the eating disorder its own name, identity, or whatever!  It isn't me talking it is the ED talking or some kind of crap like that.  Frankly I think that is bullshit!  It is like excusing myself for engaging in the disordered behavior.  It somehow makes me not accountable for my behavior, and powerless.   It isn't the eating disorder lying about purging, it is me.  It isn't the eating disorder choosing not to eat it is me.  There is something about the concept that just doesn't resonate with me.  I am the one who chose it, and I am the one that can send it on its way.  Yes it is a strong pesky beast, but I am not powerless over it.

I am angry I am irritated, and I look to the Lord.  As I pray for wisdom and revelation I hear his voice.  Since day one I have prayed for my team of professionals to be wise in my treatment.  So, I suddenly realize that by rebelling against them and running this race, I would be ignoring the very thing I had prayed for; their wisdom.  I don't like the answer.  I don't like feeling like a child, but I will abide by it because I am his child.  I rest in the fact that God and I both know that I am getting better, I wasn't fabricating it to get my way.  I was speaking the truth; My truth.



 

Again

Matthew 14:29-31 (NIV)  29"Come" he said.
Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came to Jesus.  30 But When he saw the wind, he was afraid and beginning to sink, he cried out "Lord, save me!"


Let me begin over again, again and again.  Allow me to remember that each day offers up this opportunity to me.  The gift is in the dawn of a new day.  It comes wrapped in sun light, or hidden in the clouds, but it comes... The choice is mine as to whether to unwrap it or leave it alone.  So, it is with the dawn of each new day that I fight to begin again. I fight to find my voice and be heard.  I fight the urge to fade away instead of allowing myself to take up space.  I want to honor my body, my mind, and most importantly my soul.  Can I except that I am where I am for a reason?  It would be so much easier to beat myself up beyond recognition for falling back into the eating disorder.  I am, after all, used to brutal punishment. There is some twisted irony that the anorexia leaves me unrecognizable, yet I want to beat myself up beyond recognition for embracing it once again.  Either way I am not recognized.

This morning I reach and open the gift of today and the opportunity to begin again.  I share my story without guilt or shame.  I do however; share the pain and toll it has taken on my body and soul.  I pause for a moment to pray.  I allow the Lord's grace and mercy wash away the transgression of taking my eyes off of him.  Like Peter in the storm, as soon as I looked away and became afraid, I began to sink.  I became quickly submerged beneath a torrent of swirling doubt and pain.  It wasn't raging waters that took me down, but simply rage. It is really a matter of faith. Can I allow him to wash away the eating disorder knowing that the pain, suffering, and rage it hides will be exposed?  I am scared of who I am without the anorexia.  It is like letting a piece of me go.

Today I find myself letting go (ever so slightly) of the idea that I and anorexia are one.  Instead of my identity being wrapped up in the eating disorder,  I gingerly unwrap the gift of today and the opportunity to begin again.  I feel the value in having the courage to tell my story.  My words are received as painful, yet powerful.  I use my voice and it is heard.  I find great power in exposing my weakness.  There is an acceptance I feel that this struggle is a part of the fabric of my being without defining who I am, or who I am becoming.

So, this is my opportunity to receive the gift of a chance to begin again today.  I think and search my inner most thoughts and being.  I pray for the Lord to give me revelations; to lead me on my way.  I think I want to turn back time and reclaim who I was a year ago.  I want to reclaim the emotional and physical strength that I have relinquished to the eating disorder, but I am not the same woman.  This experience has added value to the sum of my equation.  I am not the same, I am not  less, but I more. "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger" Since I am not dead, I can only assume it has made me stronger.

Falling

Falling

Free falling

While holding tight 

Loosing my footing

While climbing with might

Hiding in my darkness

I have taken my eyes off 

His light

Fading, sinking, drowning

I yearn to re-emerge 

No more by shrinking or fading away

By my own power I will surge

Rising to the surface

The current pulls me down

I fight, I kick, I gasp 

For air

Trying not to drown

I hear that drowning is peaceful

Like simply falling to sleep

I search for  strength 

I know I have

To rescue me from the deep