Well, this
post is a long time coming. And as much as I have always endeavored for my blog
to be transparent and honest, this feels almost too vulnerable for me, but here
it goes anyway {may God use it...}
I have had a
desire to simplify. I have been going through and purging, donating, etc...
Amid my books, I came across an activity I had my women's group complete a few
years ago. On a piece of paper I had typed each person's name and the phrase
"You make a difference by..." and everyone wrote an example of how
that person made a difference in the lives of others. I looked at the responses
written on my paper which included; walking with others, listening, providing
encouragement, having a servant's heart, leading, opening your heart to help
others learn/feel loved, and praying and being so intentional in all that you
do.
It was the
last statement scrawled across the paper that caused me to pause: being so
intentional in all that you do. It was just ten hours earlier in church that I
was listening to the message from 1 Peter. Be self-controlled and alert. When
we fail, we put ourselves in danger. Behaviors that become addictive can erode
our relationship with Jesus. The message was so relevant and probably not very
popular with people who don't appreciate being called out. But I am glad for
preaching that doesn't worry about offending. I think we need to be offended
more.
The homework
was to identify people who live their faith intentionally. And I can be
very intentional about some things. But, by looking at me you can see my
struggle. I am not a closet alcoholic or narcotic drug user. My drug of choice?
Food. I am an emotional eater.
I can
pinpoint when it all began for me. A time where I felt unsafe. The years where
I suffered silently because another chose to take my voice and
so much more.
And, I wanted
to shove it all down. I wanted to silence the pain that I couldn't even fully
comprehend as a child. I wanted to fill the void that made me feel like I was
worth absolutely nothing. But, I never could. I eventually found my voice. I
eventually came to know God and His redeeming love. Those old habits, though,
they are like a deceptive safety net.
Instead of
clinging to the promises I know to be true, it is shockingly easy to succumb to
old patterns. This 75 extra pounds I carry is a physical representation of how
I really haven't trusted God completely. Not with everything. Not when I feel
truly unsafe. I haven't been intentional with this area of my life. And I will
not sugarcoat the fact that it hinders me and makes me feel ashamed {and
somewhat worthless - and isn't that what I was battling to begin with?} And so
it is with the flesh: a vicious cycle.
But, there is
hope. There is always hope if we choose to go to the source of hope. And I have
hope. As I was typing this, the words from "When I Survey the Wondrous
Cross" played: love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my
all.
My all. All
that I am in Christ.
He who began
a good work in me and you will be faithful to complete it! I may stumble, but I
will not fall, because I am upheld. And I know in my heart that He uses
everything. Even the ugly, especially the ugly things in which He turns beautiful
in His time. My life is nothing if not a testimony to that.
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