Undiminished Hope

“Whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, takes off your relish for spiritual things, whatever increases the authority of the body over the mind, that thing is sin to you, however innocent it may seem in itself.” – Susanna Wesley

I packed my bag a few years ago and headed out on a journey. I armed myself with a few books on sugar addiction and the hope that I could tame my passion to overeat. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, though I had a vague idea. I hoped to land somewhere between the corner of Lose Weight and Look Sexy by way of Discipline Street. I hit a few potholes via cookie dough and White Castle, but overall, I found the journey worthwhile. The praise of people is a good motivator. It’s nice to have cheerleaders.

But once I reached my goal weight in 2011, I found that I wasn’t quite where I needed to be. I still craved food more than I wanted to. I climbed the hill of regain and fell into the valley of depression. I took some wrong turns via Pride street. I started chasing ghosts via Career Avenue and found myself spinning in circles because—though I didn’t realize it—my compass was still pointing in the wrong direction.
My prayers were still mostly for me and all the pleasures life had to offer. I had new clothes and a smaller girth but the knowledge that I never wanted to go back to the beginning and start over was not enough to stop the binge eating and exercise bulimia tendencies. I probably don’t talk enough about the destructive mental behaviors that can accompany major body re-shaping, but needless to say they are just as toxic as the physical behaviors that got me into my obesity situation in the first place.

Somewhere between the valley of depression and the cliff of severe food allergies I came to realize how very little control I actually had over my body. Some days I felt fine. Other days my thoughts delved into self-harm. I prayed. I read my Bible. I waited. There was no magic supplement or wand to cure me. It seemed the only option I really had in life was to learn how to suffer well. I learned not to complain so much. I found joy in listening to others and offering encouragement from the comfort I had received from God via the Word. I found the still waters King David spoke of in Psalm 23 and felt the joy of a restored soul. But the physical and mental pains are still frequent bedfellows.

Recently I started to climb a familiar and rather rocky path. Compulsive behaviors are not curable that I’m aware of. Be it overeating or over-exercising, I’m a master at obsession/compulsion. And while I have a lot of tips and tricks around how to keep my weight off, not all of them are healthy. Pain and fatigue have a way of sucking one into a the quicksand of relief via dessert. But I refuse to remain in that cesspool and promptly put the brownies down and crawled out.

So there I was trying really hard not to sprain my ankle on the boulder of despair as I contemplated(fantasized about) a trip to my favorite ice cream haunt. It occurred to me once again that I could go and binge eat and then work it off later. Sure, my body is tired and worn out but as long as my calories in equal the calories out and as long as nobody notices(but me) I’m in the clear, right?

I considered the comfy habits and how they soothe me (its called habitualization). Then I rationalized that I could push my body into madness later in order to keep my summer clothes happy. But when I analyze those unhealthy behaviors and really consider how awful and enslaved they made me feel, I cringe. I don’t want to walk that path. And I definitely don’t want to feel like I’m shackled to food and/or exercise to be “healthy” when in reality I’m tearing my body and my mind to pieces in the process.

The thing is, I have come to understand that my life has a purpose. I have a destination and a destiny. Binge eating and exercise are only symptoms(and sin) that distract me from that purpose.

On this journey to learn discipline I have often stepped onto the edge of that treacherous cliff called Desire with the weights of diet and exercise around my ankles, but instead of looking down and deciding how hard my fall would be this time and how long it would take to recover, I looked out over the horizon. There in the distance I saw with great clarity the hope set before me. I saw the God who loves and forgives every fall and who will heal my broken bones every time I break them, but who longs to see me fulfill what He created me for….flying.

And that is when I noticed something I hadn’t before. I saw these shriveled little wings on my back. I never saw them before because I was always so busy looking down at my ankles and the rocks in the path. I decided to try and wiggle them a bit and found them respond. Whoa! I’m not sure they would sustain a long flight, but I wondered what would happen if I practiced. If God created me to fly, shouldn’t I be about the business of learning how to do that?

I’ve been crippled for so long by the idea that I had to hike the whole way, stumbling and falling and then taking time to recover that I never even considered flying and taking short cuts over the most treacherous places.

What specific event caused me to notice the wings, you ask? It’s this, I realized the journey is not really about me at all. I’ve been looking at me for so long that I missed the most beautiful view of all, Jesus. Now maybe you are thinking that I write about Jesus a lot so I must have this whole Christianity thing figured out. As if! The truth is, I do love Jesus and he is wonderful at cleaning me up and dusting me off and loving away my heartaches, but he’s also just really beautiful all by Himself. He’s not dependent on me at all but He has invited me to walk and maybe even fly with Him. But I’ve been holding onto some pretty heavy things that didn’t allow me to fully live out the purpose for which He has created me. I’ve been clinging to my identity as a food addicted person a little too closely. I’ve been exercising so much I almost forgot exercise can be something other than drudgery. I’ve been so rigid about what I put into my mouth that I sometimes forget I need to nourish my brain. And yes, I will always have foods that make me ill, but my whole world doesn’t have to revolve around them. I’ve been scuttling about in the dirt and shuffling rocks and not even realizing I had real live wings!
I don’t diet and exercise to stay thinnish. I live a healthy lifestyle so I can bring glory to my King. He has important work for me to do that requires flying and that is a wonderful and exciting thing to learn about oneself.

So now it’s time to take a deep breath…
I take the keys and unlock the shackle on my left foot of obsessive compulsive eating and then unlock the shackle of over-exercising on my right. I dust off my shame and guilt(those have been forgiven!) and I step closer to the edge. I feel the breeze. I look down and realize the rocks can’t hurt me if I use my wings. So I flex, I inhale, I smile and I leap…

and for a split second I think maybe my fall will be epic, but then I feel the updraft and suddenly I’m soaring!

“Let us also lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely…” Hebrews 12

The author and perfector of my faith is showing me just how very much He loves me. I am certainly not without cuts and bruises but I have to admit the view from up here is simply stunning.

Running with endurance…

Soaring on eagles wings…

These come from not despising the discipline of the Lord.

Tears? Yes. Pain? And then some. Hope that can never be diminished? Hallelujah!