Unbelief/Disbelief

"What do you mean, if I can?" Jesus asked, "anything is possible if a person believes."
The father instantly cried out, "I do believe, but help be overcome my unbelief" Mark 9:23-24 ( NLT )

It really isn't too difficult to catch you up on my story because basically I survived one miserable day after another.  Each day I would open my eyes hoping this would be the day of my healing from the gut issues and then the eating disorder could be addressed as my system could actually tolerate food.  It didn't happen, although my pastor keeps telling me that I really am going to be ok, and that God is working a deeper understanding in me of who he is and his great love for me.  I remained angry with God, and my self more days than not.  " Really, really God? This is how you are showing me how much you love me???"  I felt more like he was mocking me.  Yet I did stay in the word, and continued to learn from my pastor more and more about God's character and the love that he has for me.  I have to be honest my head knowledge of his love for me was far ahead of my heart knowledge.  I also had a hard time believing that My Pastor and his wife truly loved me and wanted to spend time with me.  How could they want to spend time with me?  I was angry, bitter, and depressed.  How could they possibly desire a relationship with me?  Heck I didn't even want to be with me.

It was also at this time that I really began to miss my dad.  He never called to see how I was, and our lunch dates became few and far between.  I was so disappointed that he had time to be with his secretary, and help her out with her new baby while his own baby was slipping away to the Eating Disorder  and the daily pain in my gut.  Speaking of gut....my gut instincts told me he was involved with something inappropriate, but at the time wasn't quite sure what.  I felt compelled to call him and I needed him to ask for my forgiveness for not protecting me as a child.  He said"you have no idea the things that I need forgiveness for and I don't deserve it"  Still I persisted, and he eventually ask for it and I gave it to him.  I also told him what I needed from him.  It wasn't much.  A phone call, stopping by for coffee, maybe lunch.  I told him how close I'd come to the hospital because of both the eating disorder, and the cloud of depression that threatened my life.  He didn't call.  We had lunch only if I called him.  I saw him Thanksgiving Day, because I hosted.  I dind't hear from him again until December.  He needed to borrow 8,000.00 dollars.  I was crushed.  I told him, "no! I would feel like I was prostituting myself by giving you the money when all I wanted was a phone call!"  Now I was convinced he was involved in something illegal, inappropriate, or immoral.

By December the doctor treated for a possible parasite  I may have picked up in Belize, then a small bowel overgrowth, and finally said IBS learn to live with it.  Oh and I also cut out gluten, dairy, eggs and peanuts from my diet.  Nothing seemed to help.  I pleaded to God to heal me or take me home. God had already given me more than I could handle of that I was sure. And now, my hero my dad had forsaken and abandoned me when I needed him most.  God answered my plea, but not with any sudden healing, but a simple message.  "Liz, take refuge in my arms, in my house, with me people.  I love you, my people love you.  You are mine.  Remember though your parents have forsaken you, you my precious one belong to me.  Let me be the one to hold you.  You will be okay this I promise you.  I am your father, and this daddy has never will never forget you are his baby, his darling little girl"  I took solace in this message for a period of time, then as my symptoms persisted I fell apart behaving like a little girl throwing a temper tantrum.  Challenging God, "Do you love me now"


We were scheduled to go on a cruise with the kids and friends.  I sat on the floor the night before rocking in pain and frustration. Kurt was reaching his limits and said we should just cancel.  I couldn't do that to the others going.  No, I can feel like crap on a boat as easily as my home.  I prayed and woke in the morning the first words out of my mouth were "ok God show me your glory" and although not perfect of normal, he did.  I had fun, felt ok and was hoping I was turning a corner.  Then I panicked as I realized if my gut gets better, I have to meet the eating did order head on.

My mind jumps to the present and I wonder if my subconscious is that strong causing my symptoms and giving the excuse I need to restrict?  I have some more good days.  Days that feel almost normal, but then I'll have some horrible days.  How is my fear of weight, connected to my symptoms.  Give me revelation my Lord!

Some time between Christmas and Belize, I began to let go of my anger with God because I was beginning to not only doubt him, but if he was even real.  So now I was facing unbelief and as I discovered more about my dad, disbelief.  How could he do this to me, to our family, to himself?