Ephesians 2:10 "for we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago"
I stand naked before the mirror trying to decide if I like the way I look today, or not. How am I measuring up to the unrealistic standards I have set for my 50 year old body. I begin my usual ritualistic slow turn and wonder how much longer am I going to put myself though this daily torture? Why have I held on so tightly to these standards? I stare at the naked body reflecting off the bathroom mirror shrouded in the soft light of the rising sun filtering through half opened shades. My mind drifts back to the early days of my eating disorder as a teen. I was a sad lonely adolescent that felt as big and the void as the shadow of my body that walked silently before me each day to school. The angle of the sun creating a distorted image of the mass and and size of my body. "Even my shadow is big, dark, and without a face." I felt like a person who's face was always lost in the crowd. I had no sparkle in my eye and seldom and genuine smile on my face.
With the past week being Eating Disorders Awareness Week, there has been much discussion about the medias contribution to the development of eating disorders due to the ultra thin models celebrities, etc. As I stand naked scanning my body I am keenly aware of how very different the onset of my illness was as a teen versus the middle aged woman staring back at me. My struggle with anorexia as a teen began when I thought "If I could just look like those skinny models on the glossy covers of Teen, Seventeen, and Glamour, then I could be as happy as their sparkling eyes and smiles suggested they were? I had no idea that a simple diet to lose a few pounds would take me down a road I had never intended nor desired to travel. My abusive, emotionally neglectful, home, genetics, and biology set me up for this mental illness that would bloom out of control. So, did the media cause it? Probably not, but it did plant the seed and water it allowing it flourish. At the age of 47, my relapse had nothing to do with the media, delaying my natural aging process. or looking like Barbie. It did, however have everything to do with the resurgence of the same abusive emotional upheaval of my youth. My parents stopped listening to me. Once again, I lost my voice and used my body to say what they wouldn't or couldn't hear. So, with my beloved father now dead, and my mother being cared for in a nursing facility, why do I still hold tightly to the body image issues? I can't say it is to speak to my parents anymore, but there is still some safety in the frailty of this body. Like so many of us with eating disorders, we can allow ourselves to become our illness. If we believe we are our illness, than who are we without it?
I re-read the scripture above and wonder, what if I saw myself as God's masterpiece, anew in Jesus Christ full of unleashed potential? What if my identity reflected Jesus instead of flesh and bones? What if I recognized the masterpiece he created as....me? What if I discovered I may actually like myself, if I weren't afraid to like myself?
I close my eyes drawing in a deep cleansing breath, wrapping a towel tightly around my waist and tuck in the edge, holding it secure, and slip on a sweatshirt hanging on the doorknob as my body slips to the floor and rest along the wall. With my eyes still close I exhale releasing my spirit, allowing it to rise up to meet with God. I see him, not on some big fancy throne gilded in gold, but a simple bench made of wood much like that of the manger Mary laid him in as a baby. He gently beckons me to come to him like the loving father that he is. I am timid at first as this feels like I am entering into foreign territory. I am not sure how to receive this loving gesture. I point to my self saying "me?" "Yes, you my precious child,"He replies with a sparkle in his voice as if he is excited to see me. "Have a seat," he says as a gently pats the spot to the right of him. "Please just sit here with me, I want you to see something, or rather someone amazing. I created her to love and be loved by me!" "Why is she so amazing?" I ask "Because I created her, I loved her so much I sent my son to die for her." Just sit here and watch her. I know you will like her she loves me with all her heart, and being that she is you, I want you to love her with all your heart. She is my masterpiece, and you know masterpieces don't happen overnight? They are somehow always a work in progress, but a masterpiece none the less. You are my masterpiece
So it is in being mindful of how God sees me, I go about surveying, or observing my self. I approach this as I did observing my body a few weeks back. There are no negatives allowed; no "yes buts" Wow, this is difficult for me! I believe it is hard for most women today to like themselves, or at least admit they like themselves. We fear our confidence comes across as arrogance, so we often hesitate to acknowledge and take ownership of our gifts and talents. I know this to be so true for me. Could it be that in doing this we not only deprive ourselves from reaping the benefits of our strengths, but all of humanity as well? I never thought I would quote Hilary Clinton, but here goes...it really does "take a village" We are all unique and have something unique to offer up to the universe, to God, but we can't give away what we don't own, so if we don't own our strengths, then they aren't ours to share. 1 Corinthians 12:7 "A spiritual gift is given to each of us so we can help each other" (NLT)
Once again, *)
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