" Be imitators of God, therefore as dearly loved children, and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. ( Ephesians 5:1-2) (NIV)
" Love the Lord you God with all your strength and with all your mind; and, love you neighbor as yourself" Luke 10:27 (NIV)
It has been two and a half years since I relapsed into the world of anorexia. Hungering for nothing, yet starving for so much. It has been one and a half years since God used a picture of me serving his people in Belize to see that I was in grave physical and emotional danger. It has been one year since I began to attempt to eat by faith and allow my self to satiate my physical hunger and consequently recognize that I hungered for more than food, but to love myself and take in the love of those around me. It has also been one year since my body began to reject most food I attempted to eat. Imagine that? After 2 years of seeing food as the enemy, I was now asking it to see food as my ally. It has been six months since I weighed under 112lbs and was thinking that dying would be a better way out for me. Six weeks since I entered my first triathlon and maintained my weight while competing. One month since I did my second triathlon and placed fourth overall in woman. It has been 2 weeks since I last purged just to see if I could. One day since I last restricted, somewhat afraid of weighing in at the doctors. Twelve hours since I decide that I am still hungry, and after a long debate with myself, allow myself a bowl of cereal at 10 pm. Today I listen to my very tired body and take the day off after countless days of running, biking, and swimming without a break. And I see myself moving forward allowing myself to come back into view, it is not without fear.
Fear, it is so powerful. I fear losing weight. I fear gaining weight. I fear eating. I fear not eating. I fear purging. I fear not purging. I fear that by taking control, I am somehow giving up control. I realize I am still holding on to the eating disorder when I should be letting go.
It has been 1 week since I last spoke with my father, and five days since I let him go home to be with the Lord. And now since I can't hold onto him or reach out to him, I reach out to the eating disorder, or maybe it is reaching out to me. I am tired and overwhelmed with emotion and find it hard to eat. Even during the years of recovery, it was always hard to eat when I was scared, sad, or angry, but always bounced back after a few days. I know I have probably dropped a few pounds and this time it tries to pull me in to its snare. I don't want to go back there, but am too tired to fight it.
I hear the Lord remind me that I am not going to have to fight this all alone. He sends me family and friends to comfort me and pray for me. I am surrounded by love. I ask myself " do you love yourself enough to hold onto the ground you have gained?" I find it hard to know the answer in the midst of my anger and grief. The last 2 years of my father's life were tarnished by actions I will probably never understand. I have been angry, I have been hurt, and it was so very easy to be angry. The grief that came roaring at me like a hungry lion and it caught me by surprise. The compassion that the Holy Spirit gave me for both my parents took me by surprise. Be careful what you pray for.
Just as I am not a mere ball of eating disordered symptoms, he was more than the sum of his recent past transgressions. Despite it all he was my daddy, and more than that he was my hero. And I allow myself to grieve in hopes that by allowing my feelings to be big, scary,and powerful, I won't need to fadeaway.....
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Friday, August 16, 2013
Strength and Redemption
Lamentations 3:58 "You Lord took up my case and redeemed my life"
Romans 8:26-27 " In the same way the Spirit helps in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for,but the spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words can't express. And the father who knows all hearts knows what the spirt is saying, for the spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God's own will"
I know that it is not God's will for me to be sick, yet there is something in me that feels like I need to stay here on the fringe of sick and well. A part of me that believes that I am nothing without the eating disorder, that there is somehow strength in my frailty and small frame. This is the last part of of the illness I fight to hold onto, or let go of and give to God. I have allowed my mind to grow, my emotions to felt and revealed, and my spirit to be filled by the Holy Spirit, but this I hold back. I am reassured that He is indeed strength in my weakness, and He intercedes for me when I have know idea how to pray or what to pray. By praying in the spirit he bears witness to my soul and reveals himself to me.
My body still rebels, at times, as I continue to eat by faith even when I am not hungry or when my gut is hurting. I still keep myself small enough, but I am so much stronger physically than I was two years or even a year ago. It is interesting how this time around I am not obsessed with counting calories, diets, or thinking about food all the time. I am just not hungry or aware of my hunger(most the time). It is as though the anorexia was hard wired into my brain many years ago and once I decided to tap into that line I didn't have to work at the eating disorder. The energy flowed effortlessly out of that wire flooding my mind body and spirit to enable me to literally fadeaway with out even thinking about it.
So now, in order to maintain the ground I have gained I must think about it and eat by faith. I have done two triathlons in the past few weeks. I placed in both of them as my physical strength begins to return. It is a fine line I walk being strong enough to compete, but small enough to.....I am not sure. I am also aware that it is a fine line I walk between training out of passion for the sport and compulsion to stay small. I have been there before allowing the eating disorder to sabotage my high school swimming career. I loved the sport and was competitive, but over a short period of time my passion became my compulsion. I used the swimming to feed the eating disorder while I wasn't feeding myself. As I faded away my compulsion grew and the passion for the sport slipped away. I was no longer able to keep up with the team and my coach had to let me go I love competing in these triathlons. God is my strength in my weakness and trusting in this, I eat by faith not wanting the eating disorder to sabotage my passion or my life.
I falter time and time again as I do eat by faith, and ignore His still small voice and purge what I take in. Yet it is fewer times, and not as often. It is also less of what I take in. Meaning that it isn't the
whole meal, but just enough to remind myself that I could if I wanted to and little enough to tell the
Eating Disorder that I really am in charge. It can have less and less of me and I can have more food and more of me in mind, spirit, and eventually physically. I feel some remorse, and guilt when I do this; however I don't allow myself to go into self-loathing any more. Even as I pretend I don't hear His voice telling me "stop undoing what I am trying to do" He groans for me he redeems me, He loves me. The condemnation isn't from God. He wants to scoop me up and put me back on track. Satan, however, would prefer to see me walk down the path of powerlessness and self-loathing.
Growth! It is hard for me to measure my growth in overtaking this illness because the only tangible measurement of my growth, my weight, falls below the bar that has been set for me. The intangibles of emotional and spiritual growth are difficult for me to measure and see. I have set my own bar so high and it is constantly in flux. I must turn to others to point out my growth. I turn to those that I have entrusted with my pain, my struggles, and my truth which at times is very ugly and disturbing. It is humbling and scary to not see yourself clearly physically, but even more terrifying to not see yourself at all from the inside out. So I turn to those I have entrusted with all of me to show me how I have grown. Little by little I see the growth that they see in me, and I almost believe it.
So for now I am trying to be content with the growth that isn't actually measurable by a scale; growth that is coming from the inside out, and that someone greater than I could ever imagine is pulling for me and interceding for me with groans I can't begin to comprehend.
Romans 8:26-27 " In the same way the Spirit helps in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for,but the spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words can't express. And the father who knows all hearts knows what the spirt is saying, for the spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God's own will"
I know that it is not God's will for me to be sick, yet there is something in me that feels like I need to stay here on the fringe of sick and well. A part of me that believes that I am nothing without the eating disorder, that there is somehow strength in my frailty and small frame. This is the last part of of the illness I fight to hold onto, or let go of and give to God. I have allowed my mind to grow, my emotions to felt and revealed, and my spirit to be filled by the Holy Spirit, but this I hold back. I am reassured that He is indeed strength in my weakness, and He intercedes for me when I have know idea how to pray or what to pray. By praying in the spirit he bears witness to my soul and reveals himself to me.
My body still rebels, at times, as I continue to eat by faith even when I am not hungry or when my gut is hurting. I still keep myself small enough, but I am so much stronger physically than I was two years or even a year ago. It is interesting how this time around I am not obsessed with counting calories, diets, or thinking about food all the time. I am just not hungry or aware of my hunger(most the time). It is as though the anorexia was hard wired into my brain many years ago and once I decided to tap into that line I didn't have to work at the eating disorder. The energy flowed effortlessly out of that wire flooding my mind body and spirit to enable me to literally fadeaway with out even thinking about it.
So now, in order to maintain the ground I have gained I must think about it and eat by faith. I have done two triathlons in the past few weeks. I placed in both of them as my physical strength begins to return. It is a fine line I walk being strong enough to compete, but small enough to.....I am not sure. I am also aware that it is a fine line I walk between training out of passion for the sport and compulsion to stay small. I have been there before allowing the eating disorder to sabotage my high school swimming career. I loved the sport and was competitive, but over a short period of time my passion became my compulsion. I used the swimming to feed the eating disorder while I wasn't feeding myself. As I faded away my compulsion grew and the passion for the sport slipped away. I was no longer able to keep up with the team and my coach had to let me go I love competing in these triathlons. God is my strength in my weakness and trusting in this, I eat by faith not wanting the eating disorder to sabotage my passion or my life.
I falter time and time again as I do eat by faith, and ignore His still small voice and purge what I take in. Yet it is fewer times, and not as often. It is also less of what I take in. Meaning that it isn't the
whole meal, but just enough to remind myself that I could if I wanted to and little enough to tell the
Eating Disorder that I really am in charge. It can have less and less of me and I can have more food and more of me in mind, spirit, and eventually physically. I feel some remorse, and guilt when I do this; however I don't allow myself to go into self-loathing any more. Even as I pretend I don't hear His voice telling me "stop undoing what I am trying to do" He groans for me he redeems me, He loves me. The condemnation isn't from God. He wants to scoop me up and put me back on track. Satan, however, would prefer to see me walk down the path of powerlessness and self-loathing.
Growth! It is hard for me to measure my growth in overtaking this illness because the only tangible measurement of my growth, my weight, falls below the bar that has been set for me. The intangibles of emotional and spiritual growth are difficult for me to measure and see. I have set my own bar so high and it is constantly in flux. I must turn to others to point out my growth. I turn to those that I have entrusted with my pain, my struggles, and my truth which at times is very ugly and disturbing. It is humbling and scary to not see yourself clearly physically, but even more terrifying to not see yourself at all from the inside out. So I turn to those I have entrusted with all of me to show me how I have grown. Little by little I see the growth that they see in me, and I almost believe it.
So for now I am trying to be content with the growth that isn't actually measurable by a scale; growth that is coming from the inside out, and that someone greater than I could ever imagine is pulling for me and interceding for me with groans I can't begin to comprehend.
Monday, August 5, 2013
And He Will Rescue Me Again...
2 Corinthians 1:10 (NLT) "And he did rescue us from mortal danger and he will rescue us again. We have placed our confidence in him and he will continue to rescue us"
So, before I even begin I want to make sure that my readers know that the quote I am using is from the book Gaining:The Truth About Life After Eating Disorders by Amiee Liu and is from a study done in London by Janet Treasure using a method called functional magnetic resonance imaging. It can be found on pages 86-87 of Gaining:The Truth About Life After Eating Disorders.
I wake up this morning feeling down, and restless. I sit for a moment before even getting out of bed trying to figure out what has triggered this empty listless feeling rising from within me before I even rise to face my day. It is a sense of dread, a loss of time; time lost to the eating disorder and fear that I am running out of time to recover and come back once again from the eating disorder.
I believe what has set of this cascade of fear of loss time and running out of time comes from reading, for me, two powerful paragraphs from the book afore mentioned Gaining. " The longer a person has been ill, the stronger the response of the frontal region, which also dispenses moral judgment such as guilt" Treasure is speaking of the eating disordered brain's response to food being displaced from the area of the brain that should be responsible for response to food. "When people return to normal eating habits., however, multiple areas of the brain spring into action to override the disordered response to food. This patching, Treasure said acts as a brake on the impulse to suppress the appetite. The more time that passes without relapse, the stronger more permanent the patch becomes. It cannot, however, produce a truly normal appetite response. Even after decades after their list fast or purge, former anorexics and bulimics will respond to the sight of layer cake with a complex mix of attractions, resistance, guilt, calculation, permission and release."
This quote has been weighing (no pun intended ) on my mind for the past few days. I suppose the weight of it is what has now brought me to the this sense of pain and sorrow. If I was truly recovered for 20 years, why did my "Patch" unravel so easily in such a short amount of time? Why didn't this carefully constructed patch that I worked so hard create, hold like it was supposed to? Why didn't it hold its place protecting me from, well, protecting me from myself. I find myself fighting back the tears all day long as I ponder this. What did I do wrong that this "patch" didn't just fray around the edges, but became completely unstitched. This isn't fair! Was it not enough to have had the eating disorder in the first place? Now, where others recover and their brains adjust, mine remains flawed. Even the way I go about the eating disorder isn't right. I find my self asking the question, " Was I ever in recovery?"
I feel like I have flaws on top of my flaws. I try to remind myself that I am human, therefore I am flawed. I remind myself that the illness, flaws and all do not need to define me. It isn't a statement about my character. I am still compassionate, sensitive, thoughtful, kind, generous, honest, open, a prayer warrior, even with the flaws. Still I wonder why didn't my "patch" hold? Did little pieces of it fray each time I restricted or purged over the past twenty years? Was it that this time I din't leave enough time between the behavior to weave it back together.
I begin to think in a rather circuitous direction. If the "patch" was meant to hold, did it fail me and allow the eating disorder back in, or did becoming eating disordered again (which theoretically shouldn't have happened after twenty years) cause it to unravel? My brain hurts as I try to analyze the theory and myself.
How can I make sense of this? How can I understand why God brought me through this journey only to send me back through it once again? I look to God's promises. I think of my pastor and his faith in my complete healing. I spent much of the day praying, seeking, and crying out to God. I hear him say a couple things to me. If I knew why, would it really change anything about the current journey? Probably not, but I would sure like to know the end of the story. Then I see 2Corinthians 10:1 and believe that he did indeed rescue me before, and he will do it again. God won't give up on me, as long as I don't give up on myself. Genesis 28:15 "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."(NLT)
I still look for meaning in this illness, this relapse. I need something other than the fact that we live in this fallen world. 2 Corinthians 1:4,6(NLT) "God comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and your salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things." Ah, but does patiently mean gracefully? I am rather clumsy even as I endure. I guess God will use my less than graceful passage through pain and suffering as well.
I want to curl up and fadeaway, but I will fight because I know it will be for his glory. My God knows the end of the story. He sees the beautiful stained glass mosaic that he continues to create out of the broken pieces of my life. I picture God's stories told through the stained glass windows of a church and envision He will be revealed as he shines through the window of my life. So although still down and tired; I am not out of the fight.
So, before I even begin I want to make sure that my readers know that the quote I am using is from the book Gaining:The Truth About Life After Eating Disorders by Amiee Liu and is from a study done in London by Janet Treasure using a method called functional magnetic resonance imaging. It can be found on pages 86-87 of Gaining:The Truth About Life After Eating Disorders.
I wake up this morning feeling down, and restless. I sit for a moment before even getting out of bed trying to figure out what has triggered this empty listless feeling rising from within me before I even rise to face my day. It is a sense of dread, a loss of time; time lost to the eating disorder and fear that I am running out of time to recover and come back once again from the eating disorder.
I believe what has set of this cascade of fear of loss time and running out of time comes from reading, for me, two powerful paragraphs from the book afore mentioned Gaining. " The longer a person has been ill, the stronger the response of the frontal region, which also dispenses moral judgment such as guilt" Treasure is speaking of the eating disordered brain's response to food being displaced from the area of the brain that should be responsible for response to food. "When people return to normal eating habits., however, multiple areas of the brain spring into action to override the disordered response to food. This patching, Treasure said acts as a brake on the impulse to suppress the appetite. The more time that passes without relapse, the stronger more permanent the patch becomes. It cannot, however, produce a truly normal appetite response. Even after decades after their list fast or purge, former anorexics and bulimics will respond to the sight of layer cake with a complex mix of attractions, resistance, guilt, calculation, permission and release."
This quote has been weighing (no pun intended ) on my mind for the past few days. I suppose the weight of it is what has now brought me to the this sense of pain and sorrow. If I was truly recovered for 20 years, why did my "Patch" unravel so easily in such a short amount of time? Why didn't this carefully constructed patch that I worked so hard create, hold like it was supposed to? Why didn't it hold its place protecting me from, well, protecting me from myself. I find myself fighting back the tears all day long as I ponder this. What did I do wrong that this "patch" didn't just fray around the edges, but became completely unstitched. This isn't fair! Was it not enough to have had the eating disorder in the first place? Now, where others recover and their brains adjust, mine remains flawed. Even the way I go about the eating disorder isn't right. I find my self asking the question, " Was I ever in recovery?"
I feel like I have flaws on top of my flaws. I try to remind myself that I am human, therefore I am flawed. I remind myself that the illness, flaws and all do not need to define me. It isn't a statement about my character. I am still compassionate, sensitive, thoughtful, kind, generous, honest, open, a prayer warrior, even with the flaws. Still I wonder why didn't my "patch" hold? Did little pieces of it fray each time I restricted or purged over the past twenty years? Was it that this time I din't leave enough time between the behavior to weave it back together.
I begin to think in a rather circuitous direction. If the "patch" was meant to hold, did it fail me and allow the eating disorder back in, or did becoming eating disordered again (which theoretically shouldn't have happened after twenty years) cause it to unravel? My brain hurts as I try to analyze the theory and myself.
How can I make sense of this? How can I understand why God brought me through this journey only to send me back through it once again? I look to God's promises. I think of my pastor and his faith in my complete healing. I spent much of the day praying, seeking, and crying out to God. I hear him say a couple things to me. If I knew why, would it really change anything about the current journey? Probably not, but I would sure like to know the end of the story. Then I see 2Corinthians 10:1 and believe that he did indeed rescue me before, and he will do it again. God won't give up on me, as long as I don't give up on myself. Genesis 28:15 "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."(NLT)
I still look for meaning in this illness, this relapse. I need something other than the fact that we live in this fallen world. 2 Corinthians 1:4,6(NLT) "God comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When we are weighed down with troubles, it is for your comfort and your salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things." Ah, but does patiently mean gracefully? I am rather clumsy even as I endure. I guess God will use my less than graceful passage through pain and suffering as well.
I want to curl up and fadeaway, but I will fight because I know it will be for his glory. My God knows the end of the story. He sees the beautiful stained glass mosaic that he continues to create out of the broken pieces of my life. I picture God's stories told through the stained glass windows of a church and envision He will be revealed as he shines through the window of my life. So although still down and tired; I am not out of the fight.
Monday, July 29, 2013
The Choice
Deuteronomy 30:15 ( NLT ) " Now listen! Today I am giving you a choice between life and death, between prosperity and disaster."
Each day I wake I am choosing between life and death. Taking up space or fading away, or staying somewhere in the middle. I am waiting for God to reach down and transform my mind so that I k ow longer fear the very thing that sustains me or the weight that comes along with it. Faith Liz, where is your faith? Each day I chose to walk in the eating disorder instead of His truth, I am choosing the eating disorder over him. I am saying this is what makes me feel safe. This is what makes me powerful ( while becoming weak ). I am tired of fighting the battle to eat by faith even though my body responds to the food with pain and discomfort. So, yes I am angry with God! If I am to eat why then are you making it so difficult to eat. I am so frustrated, I am depressed and I go through a period of questioning not just God, but is he even who he says he is? Even he even there?
I panicked! If he isn't there, then I am out here fighting this alone. I made calls to my pastor daily, and began to re-read apologetic literature, historical references, and yes the Bible. What I needed was evidence that He was there, because I couldn't imagine a Loving God allowing me to suffer so emotionally or physically. I see now that he was using this crisis of faith to grow, me and prepare me to be filled with the Holy Spirit, and hear his still small voice over the booming voice of my past telling me I was never enough and would never be enough.
During this time my weight went up, it went down, never lower than 112 lb's, never higher than 117 lb's and my body fat hovered around 10-12 %. Okay God, " I need my tangible evidence. I need my equivalent to Moses' burning bush. I need it now before I go off to Belize to be your servant." This was my plea over and over again.
God showed me his face as I, despite my questions, continued to seek it. Through words spoken directly to me through my own writing, and through baptism in the Holy Spirit, and receiving the gift of praying in Tongues. I went to Belize, not only as a believer in Christ, but spirit filled as well.
I hoped this this would be the final piece of my healing puzzle, but God had more to do with me, and I suppose I had more to do with Him because I was not suddenly healed. I felt great while on the mission trip, but as soon as the plane landed back in Cincinnati the pain the gas, the bloating the anguish over eating.......was rearing its' head with a vengeance.
And so the battle raged on. I was in a spiritual battle, and a battle against my own body and mind. I also found my self battling my therapist as I believed, and still do believe God can completely heal this.
Acts 3:16 "By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong. It is Jesus name and the faith that comes through Him that has Completely healed him as you can see."(NIV) I chose this version because of the word COMPLETELY. Jesus can completely heal by faith even Anorexia which has the highest mortality rate of ANY psychiatric disorder and limited recovery rate.
God, like I said, speaks at times through my writing, through listening for his voice. Each time I chose the eating disorder over him, I hear him telling me "Liz, stop undoing what I am trying to do!" Have faith in me not the purging, not the restricting.
I find myself struggling some days to eat because of the discomfort, and on the good days fighting the urge to purge fearing that I have taken too much in. Yet I believe that despite the fact the anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder and limited recovery rate that Jesus will heal me completely, despite the fact that even as I write this I have purged a little today. I am disappointed that I fall to this as God has been so good to me on this trip and my gut has handles a great variety of foods. Today I enjoyed a grilled sandwich for lunch, and a large cookie from the bread store. I really didn't think about it. I just ate it and enjoyed it. So, it wasn't until dinner and it was a safe and heathy meal that I feel like I need to get rid of just enough...... I want to cry, I want to take it back. I don't need this any more. I still believe in his promise of Acts 3:16
I see it coming, but I hear God telling me that I still have work to do, it isn't work to earn grace or healing, but stepping out in faith. 121...I keep seeing and hearing this number. I sense that this is my goal weight. If I get there then my healing will become complete. God speaks to me " So for now, rejoice in your suffering. I've got this in MY hands, leave your hands off your body. Eat by faith, even when you don't feel like it. Keep seeking, keep thanking, come to me on prayer when it gets too much. I will carry you through it all. Trust, trust, trust. I promise I will not forsake you. This pain will be used for me glory. Wait and see. If I had healed you completely when you begged me and I told you patience, the time isn't right, would you know me more and have been reunited with your pastor and baptized in my spirit? There will be healing and revelation, but you my precious one must do some of the work. Again, not for grace, love and mercy (you already have that) but as an act of faith and trust. I love you Liz, I really do, trust me"
I fear letting Kurt, my pastor or my therapist know that I have struggled these past few weeks with purging. It is small and just a little pressure release, but I know it isn't ok, and I feel guilty and remorseful (as I always do). I remind myself there is no condemnation in Christ. I am human and I will slip and fall, but he is there to pick me up and let me lay it all down at his feet. I am starting to see that I may break down, but I am not broken, but made whole my Lord.
So, now you are pretty much up to date with my past year. Oh and it wasn't all bad. My son was married a few weeks ago. God showed me that I can have fun again and experience joy! It was a weekend filled with joy, blessings, and being with those I love and those that love me. I soaked it like a sponge filling every nook and cranny of my heart and soul. I plan to savor it, and experience it again and again as I trust and and let God fill the space that is left as I evict the eating disorder one day at a time. Today I chose to let the eating disorder in the door, tomorrow I can hear its knocking, but chose to not answer the door.
Each day I wake I am choosing between life and death. Taking up space or fading away, or staying somewhere in the middle. I am waiting for God to reach down and transform my mind so that I k ow longer fear the very thing that sustains me or the weight that comes along with it. Faith Liz, where is your faith? Each day I chose to walk in the eating disorder instead of His truth, I am choosing the eating disorder over him. I am saying this is what makes me feel safe. This is what makes me powerful ( while becoming weak ). I am tired of fighting the battle to eat by faith even though my body responds to the food with pain and discomfort. So, yes I am angry with God! If I am to eat why then are you making it so difficult to eat. I am so frustrated, I am depressed and I go through a period of questioning not just God, but is he even who he says he is? Even he even there?
I panicked! If he isn't there, then I am out here fighting this alone. I made calls to my pastor daily, and began to re-read apologetic literature, historical references, and yes the Bible. What I needed was evidence that He was there, because I couldn't imagine a Loving God allowing me to suffer so emotionally or physically. I see now that he was using this crisis of faith to grow, me and prepare me to be filled with the Holy Spirit, and hear his still small voice over the booming voice of my past telling me I was never enough and would never be enough.
During this time my weight went up, it went down, never lower than 112 lb's, never higher than 117 lb's and my body fat hovered around 10-12 %. Okay God, " I need my tangible evidence. I need my equivalent to Moses' burning bush. I need it now before I go off to Belize to be your servant." This was my plea over and over again.
God showed me his face as I, despite my questions, continued to seek it. Through words spoken directly to me through my own writing, and through baptism in the Holy Spirit, and receiving the gift of praying in Tongues. I went to Belize, not only as a believer in Christ, but spirit filled as well.
I hoped this this would be the final piece of my healing puzzle, but God had more to do with me, and I suppose I had more to do with Him because I was not suddenly healed. I felt great while on the mission trip, but as soon as the plane landed back in Cincinnati the pain the gas, the bloating the anguish over eating.......was rearing its' head with a vengeance.
And so the battle raged on. I was in a spiritual battle, and a battle against my own body and mind. I also found my self battling my therapist as I believed, and still do believe God can completely heal this.
Acts 3:16 "By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong. It is Jesus name and the faith that comes through Him that has Completely healed him as you can see."(NIV) I chose this version because of the word COMPLETELY. Jesus can completely heal by faith even Anorexia which has the highest mortality rate of ANY psychiatric disorder and limited recovery rate.
God, like I said, speaks at times through my writing, through listening for his voice. Each time I chose the eating disorder over him, I hear him telling me "Liz, stop undoing what I am trying to do!" Have faith in me not the purging, not the restricting.
I find myself struggling some days to eat because of the discomfort, and on the good days fighting the urge to purge fearing that I have taken too much in. Yet I believe that despite the fact the anorexia has the highest mortality rate of any psychiatric disorder and limited recovery rate that Jesus will heal me completely, despite the fact that even as I write this I have purged a little today. I am disappointed that I fall to this as God has been so good to me on this trip and my gut has handles a great variety of foods. Today I enjoyed a grilled sandwich for lunch, and a large cookie from the bread store. I really didn't think about it. I just ate it and enjoyed it. So, it wasn't until dinner and it was a safe and heathy meal that I feel like I need to get rid of just enough...... I want to cry, I want to take it back. I don't need this any more. I still believe in his promise of Acts 3:16
I see it coming, but I hear God telling me that I still have work to do, it isn't work to earn grace or healing, but stepping out in faith. 121...I keep seeing and hearing this number. I sense that this is my goal weight. If I get there then my healing will become complete. God speaks to me " So for now, rejoice in your suffering. I've got this in MY hands, leave your hands off your body. Eat by faith, even when you don't feel like it. Keep seeking, keep thanking, come to me on prayer when it gets too much. I will carry you through it all. Trust, trust, trust. I promise I will not forsake you. This pain will be used for me glory. Wait and see. If I had healed you completely when you begged me and I told you patience, the time isn't right, would you know me more and have been reunited with your pastor and baptized in my spirit? There will be healing and revelation, but you my precious one must do some of the work. Again, not for grace, love and mercy (you already have that) but as an act of faith and trust. I love you Liz, I really do, trust me"
I fear letting Kurt, my pastor or my therapist know that I have struggled these past few weeks with purging. It is small and just a little pressure release, but I know it isn't ok, and I feel guilty and remorseful (as I always do). I remind myself there is no condemnation in Christ. I am human and I will slip and fall, but he is there to pick me up and let me lay it all down at his feet. I am starting to see that I may break down, but I am not broken, but made whole my Lord.
So, now you are pretty much up to date with my past year. Oh and it wasn't all bad. My son was married a few weeks ago. God showed me that I can have fun again and experience joy! It was a weekend filled with joy, blessings, and being with those I love and those that love me. I soaked it like a sponge filling every nook and cranny of my heart and soul. I plan to savor it, and experience it again and again as I trust and and let God fill the space that is left as I evict the eating disorder one day at a time. Today I chose to let the eating disorder in the door, tomorrow I can hear its knocking, but chose to not answer the door.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
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?
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?
Friday, July 12, 2013
With Me
Mark 5:30 " Jesus realized at once that the healing power had gone from him, so he turned around in the crowd and asked ' who touched my robe?' "( NLT )
With Me
It goes with me wherever I go
Following like a haunting fragrance of the past
Or before me like my shadow
It is hidden
It is visible
Yet, it goes with me wherever I go
I can push it away
For a moment
For a day
Still, it goes with me wherever I go
I can swat it like
A buzzing bee
Only to miss
And feel its' sting
It wounds me as it goes with me wherever I go
It calls for me
It wants to be heard
I tune out
By tuning it in
It beckons me as it goes with me wherever I go
I bury it deep
In the cracks of my mind
And the crevices of my soul
It digs and it digs
Clawing its' way to the surface
Gasping for air
wanting to thrive
Over and over again
It is persistent as it goes with me wherever I go
When I don't run back to catch it
Somehow it catches up with me
It is sneaky as it goes with me wherever I go
It is time to send it on its' way
Far enough that it can't go with me wherever I go
Like a security blanket
I can't part with it
so I tuck it away
I need to know where it is
If it is not going with me wherever I go
I may need to find it
Run my fingers along the edges that are frayed
Allowing it to comfort me again
Or...It can remind me that I have grown
By simply touching his robe.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Fear and Desperation
I sit watching the sun continue to rise over walloon, knowing that I will return home for a week or two before I will see the splendor of God's gift of this place once again. I was hoping to catch up more on my blog so that I could start writing in the present. The real miracle is that I am here at all.
I had hit the point of utter despair as each and every day I expected to feel better, but did not. I began to really question God. I was a woman of faith that was quickly losing her faith and basically losing it all together. Had God abandoned me? Was he punishing me? Was this my own doing by stepping back into the eating disorder? Maybe the physical symptoms were a result of starving and asking to much of my body? Was my mind causing my symptoms because hidden deep in my psyche was the fear of the weight and recovering? Somehow I made it through day after day wanting to just curl up, go to sleep and never wake up. By the end of September I was able to pull off my teaching in both the classroom and the gym, but behind my closed doors, I was falling deeper in to the depression, anger at God and myself, and my therapist insisted that enough was enough. She asked me to please go on meds, and if I was suicidal. " No" I told her "I really don't think I could take my own life, but was ready go home to God if he would take me." I am not sure how convinced she was? I agreed to try the meds again.
I just wanted to feel well, feel normal, eat without fear of the discomfort, and with out the fear food because of the eating disorder. I felt like I was in a place that I wanted to be done with the eating disorder, and now it physically hurt to eat. Then as I was shaking my fist at God, it dawned on me that Satan is real and he wants to throw stumbling blocks in our paths. In my case it felt like boulders of granite, not mere blocks. But I had no idea how to fight this physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
It was around the end of October that, as I was reaching the end of my rope. The Wellbutrin was taking the desperation down to despair, but the meds prescribed to take the edge off of what they were now calling irritable bowel syndrome, or IBS, made me feel like I was in a drug induced stupor trying to fake my way through the day. Needless to say, I went off the drug. I'd rather be curled up in pain than live disconnected from myself and the rest of humanity. I seriously felt like driving into a wall, or calling the squad to come get me before I hurt my self. Yet, the slow death of the eating disorder was somehow okay? Although it wasn't like putting a gun to me head, or slitting my wrists, the end result if not physical death, is hardly living!
I was starting to see that this was not just a physical battle but a spiritual battle. I needed help beyond cognitive therapy, or medication. I needed and advocate to show me how to fight my life long demons and lies I believed about myself. I began sharing with a friend a the club. I knew she was a believer, and I knew he husband pastored a church, and had lead Young Life with my father when I was a child.
She suggested I sit and have them pray for me. I expected a simple prayer of healing and I would be on my way. What I received was a safe loving couple that cared for me and began to show be that God was in this from the day I was conceived. He loved me and would work this for the good. I was, of course skeptical. I had been a Christian for years, but my view of who he was, was tainted by the way my parents had treated me. How Could the God of all the universe love and care about me, when my own parents didn't seem to love and cherish me.
I felt abandoned and punished. Yet, I didn't know why. I told my pastor and his wife words that I felt God had given me as I cried one morning begging for God to heal me or take me home. Keep in mind, that I wanted to physically and emotionally be healed, but wanted to hold on to my frailty. "Patience my child. I will take care of this. The time isn't right. There is a reason it is still and deep. Trust me. Just be. When you are stronger."
"Liz, look at he Petoskey stone I sent you. It is my promise that you will be okay." Said the Lord.
I answered, ''Lord, it would be such a relief to just trust you, to just be......I look at he Petoskey stone you sent me. I love that it is oddly shaped, but somehow reminds me of a throne and its' edges are jagged. It is not perfect, or polished like the ones for sale in the stores. No, it is like me; incompletely formed. Its' design only seen when moistened with water, like you life giving rivers of water. John 7:38 "Whoever believes in me, as scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them" It is the Lord's river of living water that flows through me revealing my intricate design, and my purpose. "Believe this Liz!' And by the way, you are more solid thane you think. Look at the stone, feel the weight of it, hold it in your hand. See and feel it. That is you. And even though the base is uneven, see how it sits and doesn't tumble. Notice that it wobbles. but only in one direction. It doesn't move from the other side, Which direction are you focusing on, the weak or the strong?"
So, I began meeting with My pastor and his wife at least once a week. They began to love me and think of me as one of their own. Both also felt(feel) that god will completely heal me. I worry that I won't live to see the healing of the eating disorder, the depression, of the IBS. I can't count how man times would call him in tears fearing I was not going to make it. If God didn't take me home.......
well?????
I was afraid, Kurt was afraid that I would implode and not purposely take my own life, but in one of my melt downs of despair hurt myself beyond repair. We spent most of the fall and winter walking a thin line between life and death. If the eating disorder itself didn't take me out, my reaction to my physical discomfort would. I was counting on God to heal me, or to take me home.
Every day was a struggle to eat by faith even when I was fearful and in pain, but I fel that this what God was asking of me.
I had hit the point of utter despair as each and every day I expected to feel better, but did not. I began to really question God. I was a woman of faith that was quickly losing her faith and basically losing it all together. Had God abandoned me? Was he punishing me? Was this my own doing by stepping back into the eating disorder? Maybe the physical symptoms were a result of starving and asking to much of my body? Was my mind causing my symptoms because hidden deep in my psyche was the fear of the weight and recovering? Somehow I made it through day after day wanting to just curl up, go to sleep and never wake up. By the end of September I was able to pull off my teaching in both the classroom and the gym, but behind my closed doors, I was falling deeper in to the depression, anger at God and myself, and my therapist insisted that enough was enough. She asked me to please go on meds, and if I was suicidal. " No" I told her "I really don't think I could take my own life, but was ready go home to God if he would take me." I am not sure how convinced she was? I agreed to try the meds again.
I just wanted to feel well, feel normal, eat without fear of the discomfort, and with out the fear food because of the eating disorder. I felt like I was in a place that I wanted to be done with the eating disorder, and now it physically hurt to eat. Then as I was shaking my fist at God, it dawned on me that Satan is real and he wants to throw stumbling blocks in our paths. In my case it felt like boulders of granite, not mere blocks. But I had no idea how to fight this physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
It was around the end of October that, as I was reaching the end of my rope. The Wellbutrin was taking the desperation down to despair, but the meds prescribed to take the edge off of what they were now calling irritable bowel syndrome, or IBS, made me feel like I was in a drug induced stupor trying to fake my way through the day. Needless to say, I went off the drug. I'd rather be curled up in pain than live disconnected from myself and the rest of humanity. I seriously felt like driving into a wall, or calling the squad to come get me before I hurt my self. Yet, the slow death of the eating disorder was somehow okay? Although it wasn't like putting a gun to me head, or slitting my wrists, the end result if not physical death, is hardly living!
I was starting to see that this was not just a physical battle but a spiritual battle. I needed help beyond cognitive therapy, or medication. I needed and advocate to show me how to fight my life long demons and lies I believed about myself. I began sharing with a friend a the club. I knew she was a believer, and I knew he husband pastored a church, and had lead Young Life with my father when I was a child.
She suggested I sit and have them pray for me. I expected a simple prayer of healing and I would be on my way. What I received was a safe loving couple that cared for me and began to show be that God was in this from the day I was conceived. He loved me and would work this for the good. I was, of course skeptical. I had been a Christian for years, but my view of who he was, was tainted by the way my parents had treated me. How Could the God of all the universe love and care about me, when my own parents didn't seem to love and cherish me.
I felt abandoned and punished. Yet, I didn't know why. I told my pastor and his wife words that I felt God had given me as I cried one morning begging for God to heal me or take me home. Keep in mind, that I wanted to physically and emotionally be healed, but wanted to hold on to my frailty. "Patience my child. I will take care of this. The time isn't right. There is a reason it is still and deep. Trust me. Just be. When you are stronger."
"Liz, look at he Petoskey stone I sent you. It is my promise that you will be okay." Said the Lord.
I answered, ''Lord, it would be such a relief to just trust you, to just be......I look at he Petoskey stone you sent me. I love that it is oddly shaped, but somehow reminds me of a throne and its' edges are jagged. It is not perfect, or polished like the ones for sale in the stores. No, it is like me; incompletely formed. Its' design only seen when moistened with water, like you life giving rivers of water. John 7:38 "Whoever believes in me, as scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them" It is the Lord's river of living water that flows through me revealing my intricate design, and my purpose. "Believe this Liz!' And by the way, you are more solid thane you think. Look at the stone, feel the weight of it, hold it in your hand. See and feel it. That is you. And even though the base is uneven, see how it sits and doesn't tumble. Notice that it wobbles. but only in one direction. It doesn't move from the other side, Which direction are you focusing on, the weak or the strong?"
So, I began meeting with My pastor and his wife at least once a week. They began to love me and think of me as one of their own. Both also felt(feel) that god will completely heal me. I worry that I won't live to see the healing of the eating disorder, the depression, of the IBS. I can't count how man times would call him in tears fearing I was not going to make it. If God didn't take me home.......
well?????
I was afraid, Kurt was afraid that I would implode and not purposely take my own life, but in one of my melt downs of despair hurt myself beyond repair. We spent most of the fall and winter walking a thin line between life and death. If the eating disorder itself didn't take me out, my reaction to my physical discomfort would. I was counting on God to heal me, or to take me home.
Every day was a struggle to eat by faith even when I was fearful and in pain, but I fel that this what God was asking of me.
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