I don’t know how many times I’ve gotten my hopes up that I was “healed” from bulimia.
How deeply, desperately, hopefully and hopelessly I’ve searched for a cure, a healing method, a way of any kind to climb out of this hell hole. I’ve been 100% certain that it was lifted from me, and then when I wasn’t looking, it snuck in the back door.
I’ve tried 12 step groups, yoga practices, guided meditations, Angel card readings, healing books of every sort, time alone, time in nature, smoking cigarettes, drinking caffeine, going to inpatient treatment, following strict guidelines from a dietician, excercise therapy, psychotherapy, talking to others in recovery, vision boarding like a fool, breathing, praying, crying, hiding, running, replacing it with a romantic relationship, getting a dog, getting a divorce, and having hands laid on me in prayer.
It’s still haunting me.
It says “you just haven’t tried hard enough. You never stick with anything. If you were just more willing, more disciplined, maybe I would go away. But you don’t really want me to. You are more comfortable with your darkness than you are with your light.”
Evil is very convincing. It’s extremely difficult to discern the true from the false when you are wrapped up in its grasp. As I have grown spiritually, I felt more and more attacked by it. As I grew, so did the problem in my mind. The battle between light and dark is real! It is within and without.
I’ve come to understand that sometimes God doesn’t change my circumstances because he’s changing my heart. Because he is. It has. I’m changed and still changing.
Even though I stumble, I KNOW without a shred of a doubt, God is with me. He is teaching me to have faith on my best day, faith on my worst day. Now when I mess up, I run to him instead of hiding from him. I grab his hand again. He has his healing hands all over my life. I am not alone.
My job now is not to obsess over my condition, but to spread the lovely light of Christ to everyone I meet. Evil will continue to attack, but I have the single greatest power in the universe protecting me! Of whom should I fear? Not the voices in my head! Not my demons.
I know God can do ANYTHING. I know he’s going to heal me. For a reason I can not yet understand, that hasn’t happened fully yet. But that doesn’t mean I’m not healing. I believe he wants me to have faith even in the trenches, perseverance through any obstacle. Even in sickness, even in weakness. Maybe to show others that we must have faith in every step of the process, not just when things are going good. I know he knows my heart. All shall be well.
I realize that I want to live my life with Jesus as my teacher. His perfect love can cast out that spirit. He can cast out all fear, all my demons. He does that regularly for me. But that doesn’t mean they stop going after me! In fact, they attack more readily when I grow in faith. This is how we get stronger!
He is the only way to true and lasting peace. I used to pray to God, the spirits and the Angels, and sometimes at the end I would whisper Jesus’ name. When I said it, I would smile and get chills as if I were in on life’s best secret, and it was just between him and I.
My soul yearned to know him personally.
There were moments, the thin places, where the veil between me and God seemed almost impossible to detect. Experiences so vivid and transcendent that I was sure I needed to become a renunciate or a mystic because God wanted me all to himself. I was so sure of how much he loved me and wanted me close to him, but then my mind became tangled in a web of pain about food, body, depression, and bulimia.
I read so many books to try and solve the issue and met many friends I’m certain I was destined to travel this journey with. Out of the dark night of the soul has come a light, a hope so beautiful that it has made all the pain completely worthwhile.
I’ve reconnected with people from the past who have had messages for me that I’m certain were sent from God. Every day, even while in the depths of the pain of bulimic episodes, I didn’t stop reaching. I still haven’t stopped. I won’t stop.
Friends, I really want my story to be a healing story. I want my headline to say “woman miraculously healed from eating disorder”. But I think God has a different working title.
That’s not to say that miracles don’t abound, because they do. Jesus has made me new. Every time I say his name, I smile. He is the well of love, the cornerstone of strength, the fountain of hope, and the stream of peace that flows endlessly into my heart. He tells me I’m forgiven. Even when it feels like the demons have got me. He casts them out and makes my heart pure AGAIN and AGAIN. Grace is sufficient for me.
Even though I’m still stumbling, I know the answer now. And that gives me such a profound sense of relief and joy. That the work has already been done. That he wants to hold my hand until the day I take my last breath. That he thinks I’m perfect. He wipes away my tears and says “lift up your head, I’ve got you now. Unconditionally!” And I know nothing but love. Even when I’ve fallen prey to temptation, which happens all the time.
When I fall short as a mother, and I know the parents out there know how painful that can be, he forgives me. He takes away my struggle and my stress. He says, step into my flow. Let’s see how we can love in this moment. How can we serve? How can we carry this message of freedom and strength?
I’m crying as I write this, because I can’t understand how or why I was chosen for something so beautiful when I am so very flawed? I’m not sure.
I know in each of us there is a yearning. A question of the heart. A desire to be full of a divine, pure love. I know that God meets us where we are. God shows up in infinite forms, different for each of us. This is the way he has revealed himself to me. For me, I feel like I’ve struck gold. I’ve found what I’ve been looking for! And I’ve been seeking for a long time.
So I accept that it’s not gone yet. But who knows what God has planned today? Perhaps it is gone. I sure don’t feel evil’s presence in me at the moment!
Fall down 799 times, get up 800. I know that’s not how the saying goes, but it feels slightly more accurate than the 7, 8 ratio. I did not have the strength to do get back up on my own resources. Relying on my own strength had me basically on my knees praying for it all to end. I wanted to die.
And in a way, I have. I have died to who I used to be. I am not a bulimic.
Jesus gave me new life.
I am a child of God. Free indeed!