I haven't blogged for a week! We went out of town with friends for a couple days then when I came back I started coming down with a bad head cold and haven't really even posted on Facebook more than a couple words here and there. I am still struggling with my sinuses but I didn't want to let more time go by without blogging on Made To Crave, because I know that some of you are reading the book and following the blog so here goes J
I am discovering more and more that I haven't had your run of the mill experience with my eating disorder and I am very grateful for that. I was listening to my pastor teach this morning via the internet at Lifebridge.cc (since I was still sick) and he was talking about being totally healed and recovered once we are praying to be delivered from something. He used alcoholism as an example but I think it can apply to all areas in our life where we have prayed for deliverance whether it is an eating disorder, an addiction or an illness. We have to believe in and expect change when we pray to be delivered from something. I suffered from depression so dark for many years that I used to actually pray that I would just get sick and die so that Brian and the kids would have a chance to be happier with someone else as their wife and mom. I didn't want to have an accident or kill myself because that would be too hard on them, but I thought if I could get sick and die a little slower they would be more prepared… I can't even believe it now that I actually prayed and sincerely thought like that but I did. I felt so low and so bad about myself that I really wanted to die. The day God delivered me from that depression, I was sitting in a hospital room where I was being treated for what they had originally thought was a nervous breakdown but ended up being low blood sugar. I had been journaling about what I was feeling and the presence of God came into that room so strongly, I can't even explain it to you. For the first time in a long time, I felt important to God and His plan. I knew at that moment He loved me and wanted me, flaws and all. I stayed 5 days in a room that was supposed to be a double occupancy but nobody ever checked in with me and I know now that was God ordained so it would be just me and Him. I needed to get to the place where I remembered that I was part of a bigger plan and that He would never leave me. When I left that hospital I was never the same. I had got down and dirty with God during that time. I had told Him all my hopes, dreams and fears. I had some follow up counseling sessions after I was discharged but I only went to a couple because I knew right away that they wanted me to do things that I didn't need to do which was basically rehash every event from my childhood until the present day and dredge up all the hurts, old and new. To me forgiveness means leaving some things in your past, leaving some things buried. Buried is dead after all. You dig that up and all it does is stink and attract maggots… and nothing good can come from that. Nothing. So against every one with a PHD's better judgment, I discharged myself from the therapist's care and walked away and I have to be honest with you, I never regretted it. God had done more in those 5 days than any counseling sessions could have accomplished. Do I believe in counseling?? Sure. I told you in other posts that I was in a group counseling atmosphere for 5 years for other matters; I just believe as Christians we need to know when enough is enough. After all we say we are new creatures in Christ but when does that take over all our old garbage? We say we are whole with new hearts and new lives so why do we still want to live in the coffin of our pasts? We say we are healed but we still tell everyone that will listen about our aches and pains…… I have an idea, let me share it with you- one word….
Retreat.
That's right: Retreat. The Catholics believe in doing this and I think it is genius. Once a year, go someplace quiet and get alone with God for a couple days. Can't do a couple? How about 24 hours? Go to a park and stay in one of their hotels or cabins during an off season and stay 24 hours; one night and a part of 2 days. Somewhere close by so you don't have to drive all day to get there. Turn off the TV, put your cell away, get out your bible and retreat into a quiet place with God. Tell Him what is going on. Tell Him you fears, hopes and dreams. You can fast or treat yourself to a couple good meals, whatever your soul needs. I think that is what happened to me in the hospital even though it was unintentional. I finally got away from all the distractions and quiet enough to really hear what God was trying to say to me. When it was just me and Him, I could hear Him. I don't recommend almost having a nervous breakdown to get to that place, but God has a way of using what the enemy intends to destroy us and turn it for His good use. When I was first admitted they wouldn't let me talk to my family for 24 hrs. then it was another 24 before I could have a visit from them. That first visit, my husband carried my youngest son out crying for his Mama. He was only 3 and he couldn't understand why I wasn't at home. I watched his little face crumble when Brian told him it was time to go and to kiss Mommy good-bye. I knew at that moment I had been wrong about leaving them because it could never be easy; whether illness or accident. I was it seemed, all they wanted too. Flaws and all.
The world makes it way too easy to explain our faults away to addiction or illness or rotten childhoods. We long for someone or somewhere to point a finger at and lay blame. It has to be someone or some "things" fault that we are essentially flawed human beings with addictive personalities and fragile bodies. Surely, it can't be because of choices we ourselves have made. Surely, the finger shouldn't be pointed at us…. should it? When are we delivered? When are we healed? That was what my pastor was saying this morning when he stated we shouldn't be telling people we are alcoholics if we are Christians that don't abuse alcohol anymore. What have we been delivered from if not all those old things that chained us down? How can I still suffer from depression and an eating disorder after that "A-Ha" moment with God in a hospital room? Isn't that a slap in His face if I still see myself the same old way? Is the reason we don't claim deliverance and healing because it is just so much easier to lay the blame on those things instead of where it really lies? Are we really sick or are we just too lazy to run the vacuum cleaner? Is it easier to hang onto the hurt of abuse than forgive and move forward? Do we use that hurt as a shelf for our excuses? You are probably saying that I don't understand but sadly; I do. The battle begins and ends in our emotions. I have fought it and still fight it; almost daily.
This chapter in MTC was about replacing our cravings with good things. Lysa used prayer as her replacement and stated that brick-by-brick she laid a path of prayer where her old eating habits once were; while some people use exercise or healthier choices like vegetables or fruit as their bricks. For me, it is just more basic than that. For me it's about that first wrong choice that triggers that craving and that culprit is carbs. If I start my day with a carb (sweet or unsweet) of some sort, then I start a landslide that follows me most of the day. If I pair that carb with some protein, I do much better- like whole wheat toast and peanut butter for example. I know what my triggers are and it's up to me to change the chain of events. You better bet I pray about it too. I really do. But the initial choice is mine to make and like so many people have been so gracious to remind me, there are so many more important things than worrying about weight and what I am eating every day, so if I can start my day off better then hopefully I will have a leg up mentally too because I will know I did what I could to stop the cycle. After all I am not bulimic anymore; I have been set free. That old habit is dead and buried and full of maggots, and that is where it needs to stay. If I keep re-animating it my life starts to look like an old black and white re-run of Dawn of the Dead and even though I love old horror films; that is a not a side of me I delight in resuscitating.
It stinks and I don't want to go back there…. now THAT would be really depressing and since I have been delivered from that too- the maggots will just have to wait.
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