grace (eventually)…. thoughts on binging and dieting by anne lamott

i’ve been reading her, again, this anne lamott who says things i believe. it’s like she’s in my head, and i want to share her thoughts on binging and self-worth and Jesus with you, here below. (love to you all, on this healing journey…)

“whenever i want to either binge or diet, it means that there is some part of me that is deeply afraid. i had been worrying about (my son) more than usual, and only partly because he had just begun to drive. i had been worried sick about Bush for five years now. there was a terrifying epidemic of breast cancer in my county; like so many others, i had friends who were trying to survive. and lately i’d fallen back into my old habit of acting like classroom helper to the world, doing too many favors for people… i had been to a funeral. i had had a molar pulled. i had recently seen the skin on the back of my neck under fluorescent lights in a hotel mirror. i hadn’t seen it in years; not it looked like it was upholstered in a few inches of the Utah desert. everything was too much.

“all i could think to do was what every addict thinks of doing: kill the pain… anyone would understand if you binged every so often… even Jesus would, although somehow i don’t see him ripping open a package of Hostess Ding Dongs for me. but thinking of him reminded me that food would not fill the holes or quiet the fear. only love would; only my own imperfect love would.” (anne lamott, grace eventually, 53-54)

Learning to ignore our feelings (Guest post by Deidra Manning)

I used to live life based on my feelings. We all do that at times, and it is one of the biggest mistakes we make.

It’s nothing new – Satan has used our emotions and feelings to try to separate us from the truth of God since the beginning of time.

Think back to the garden. Eve was tempted by the serpent to eat the fruit God told them not to. She was tempted by her feelings. She was the only woman on the face of the whole earth – no one else to compare herself to, no one else to tell her something was wrong with her – it was already a part of her, the way God made her that Satan used against her.

He told her God lied. Satan told her God didn’t want her to eat the fruit because it would make her like God – she would know good from evil. He played on her emotions, got her to doubt, made her question.

Maybe I’m not good enough the way I am – the way God created me. I need to eat that fruit to make me better, wiser.

And of course, we all know the choice she made. Rather than taking God at His word, trusting His plan, believing that He wanted what was best for her, she took the bait. She, for whatever reason feeling she wasn’t good enough the way God made her, chose to eat the fruit so she could be better.

And that same old trick still works on all of us today, thousands of years later because we still struggle with our feelings. And in the world we live in it is easier than ever.

We have millions of people to compare ourselves to, a society that tells us we must look and be a certain way if we want to be successful and happy. We let our feelings drown out God’s truth – what He says about us. And then we wonder why we’re not happy, why nothing is ever good enough, why we have unsuccessful relationships, bad habits, why we live in the same old cycles and patterns.

It’s because we are still making the wrong choice. I’ve done it all my life – listened to my feelings rather than His fact. I never felt good enough about anything, ever – that me, the way I was, the way He made me just wasn’t good enough. Just like he did with Eve, Satan pointed out an area of inadequacy. And like Eve, I had to come up with a way to be better.

I didn’t talk to God first. I didn’t ask Him what He thought, I didn’t read His word, or believe His truth over my feelings. I made the choice to trust my feelings – to believe the lies. As a result I began the hardest struggle of my life. Over a period of months I became bulimic.

I had been a Christian since childhood and knew God’s word, but I never really, truly believed it. That’s why it was so easy for me to fall victim to Satan’s schemes. I believed my feelings more than I believed God’s facts.

But thin never led to fulfillment, exercise never brought me peace, a smaller pants size never gave me joy. Those things only came when I truly believed in Jesus’ love for me, when I treated the spiritual problem the right way – spiritually.

We have to choose how to treat our problems and issues – with society’s standards and pop culture values or with God’s word. We have to stop making physical issues out of the things that are spiritual. We are left empty every time we seek to fulfill internal needs with external resources. Feelings are based on perception, circumstances, current location, and situation. Facts are based on truth and proven history. Feelings are fickle and temporary – they constantly change. Fact is permanent, cannot be changed, is solid and stable.

Living by feelings leads to fear, fighting, fluctuation, frustration, falsehood, famine, failure, and flesh. Living by God’s facts leads to faith, freedom, fortification, fulfillment, focus, forgiveness, fertility, favor, and finish. We have to choose. The decisions we make show where our belief lies. Everything about us shows our faith, indicating what we believe and how we make our choices – by feeling or fact. Choosing to live by feelings tells God we don’t need Him. It says that we trust ourselves more than we trust Him.

Scripture is filled with facts. God cannot lie and is only capable of truth. His fact tells us that He loved us so much He sent His son to die for us, that whoever calls on Him will be saved, that Satan is a liar and is defeated, that He will never leave us or forsake us, that He has cast out every fear, that we can have salvation, forgiveness, provision, strength, peace, hope, power, love, a sound mind, that He has good plans for us – to prosper us and to give us a future and a hope.

You choose what you will believe and how you will act. You are in charge. You don’t have to be ruled by feelings. Read His word and find out what He says about you, write down His promises, fill your head and heart with His words. Then when Satan comes at you using your feelings against you, you can quote Scripture – that’s what Jesus did to defeat him – he has no come back for that – God always has the last word.

It takes commitment and vigilance. You can’t fight if you’re not prepared. It takes daily practice. We have somehow come to believe that struggling means we’re failing, but struggle doesn’t indicate failure – it indicates fight. It shows you’re not giving up or giving in. It reveals your determination and character. It proves that you are willing to war against those forces against you. Choose to live in His fact over your feelings. Don’t fight alone – fight with His armor. He works only for your good when you are committed and fully trust in Him.

(please visit Deidra at her blog, The Middle)

Tasting Larger (Guest Post by Janae)

I, the no-needs female. I, the stream-lined individual. I know that linear is more efficient than weaving-loom round, that agreeing is smoother than saying ‘No’, that people like me better when I take care of them.

I pretend to not know my mind, that I have no opinion. I close-my-eyes blind, to protect, to hide, to be perfect. I’m desperate to be safe, yet fear hounds relentless, and so I put myself away. At times, the pain of pretending, denying, agreeing, and ‘yes-ing’ to all the bullshit bursts ahead of my fear, and I speak, I explode.

I apologize. I soothe. I polish. I tuck away, I put away this messy Janae. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

I hide, I fight to be thin, an impossible me that does not take up space. Heaven forbid I have hips, they betray me woman, not girl. They betray me strong, capable, full to round with sex-appeal. I live to mold my body straight, to be hidden behind the cliché so that no one will notice me or blame me for filling-out my seat.

I consolidate, negate, ignore, exile. I secure one-dimension living. I find the safe, the sound, the benign, the bland. Outside I could not be more commendable, approve-able, like-able. Inside I am all starve, silence, and be-little. I hide away myself, my many screaming, needing, begging, feeling, selves.

I need neat and I need tidy, because I want safety, I want sure.

I am accustomed to this tiny existence. Me, scurrying around the edges of my life. Me, apologizing for taking up space.

Now, I’m being pulled into more. Now, I’m being grown into, thrown into, more. An expansion, an upheaval, a frightening, take it back, I-don’t-want-this-much-freedom, more. I lament this overhaul. It is all I have ever wanted, and it has been my greatest fear.

Within this paradox, as I fight and ask for a return to small, I am tasting Larger.

Janae is scared of being honest with herself and vulnerable with others. She struggles to flesh out her beliefs, hopes, and prayers. She believes that living is a process, an ongoing cycle of broken-open-weeping and weaving-me-whole. She is trying to learn self-acceptance. Find her here. Image by Janae.

numbing the pain of the past

i’m talking about disappointment over at my personal blog, and it’s something i think we disordered eaters struggle with.

disappointment. being let down by those we love.

and so often, we try to prevent it from happening again. we get shocked by the pain in the first place, and then decide that in order to keep ourselves from being hurt like that again, we’ll numb the pain. by starving ourselves, or over-eating, and so we beat the others to it. we hurt ourselves, so they don’t have to.

i am learning a new kind of way of dealing with pain.

i am learning to face it head-on.

as my friend said, “you can always trust in the beauty of moving forward.”

there is beauty in being raw, in exposing your heart to the world and trusting that God has your back. 

i’m tired of not living for fear of being hurt. geneen roth, author of Women, Food and God, said, “Most of us spend our lives protecting ourselves from losses that have already happened.”

i don’t want to be that kind of person. i want to have stories for my grandchildren. i want my scars to be badges of courage, not self-inflicted emblems of fear.

so let’s rise up, men and women, and face the giants. let’s toss those david-stones and trust that God will slay Goliath.

because at the end of the day, pain is beauty. and beauty is courage. and courage is faith.

(painting by e. wierenga)

what i really, really want (guest post by the sacred life)

 
the lilies on  my windowsill

a few days ago, beautiful monica commented, i’ve asked this question to people i meet, or a variant, and it’s shocking how difficult it is for most people.

i agree. i am (was) one of those people. what do i really, really, really want? it’s easy to answer the obvious: deeper understanding. mad organizational skills. reach my goal weight. do what i love and make a difference for others. but all of these answers are symptoms of something deeper … a root, a thing that matters most. identifying our thing can be a bit tricky. u2 says it best, i think:

I have spoken with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for

so how do we?
how do we find what we are looking for?
how do we discover what it is that we really, really want?

the answer is simple.

it is through the lost arts of stillness
and listening.

being ::

it is through being present in yourself, it is being aware.

this is one reason why i love monica’s senses shared exercise. in my own practice, something i have done for a long time is to sit and ask myself, what do i feel right now? what do i need? what am i hungry for? what do i see right at this moment? and this brings the truth of being into focus, and all that is real and true.
 
as we sojourn throughout our years, our deeply-rooted thing will vary according to our emptiness and fullness. at one point in my life, it was to matter. to know that i, as me, had a purpose and reason to live ~ and to live loved. there is a difference between mere living and living loved, and that difference spells soul-life or death.

for me now? what do i really really REALLY want?

wholeness. 

my own personal journey is about coming into wholeness, into (home)ostasis of soul, spirit, mind, flesh. becoming fearless; fine-tuning love until it shimmers with all purity and light. my sweet friend shared the following quote with me this morning:

When others see you at peace, they’re reminded of the value of tranquility … 
that is, you inspire them to be at peace. ~  Doreen Virtue 

this is why i sojourn,
this is why i live,
and this is why i desire wholeness.

 

(thank you, beautiful rain. please visit her site, here, friends…)

in which i struggle with being good enough

everywhere, the crocus is springing purple. the weather, puddling wet and the boys in splash pants and boots. there is no greater joy than a pair of rubber boots in a puddle. no brighter picture than yellow rain-jackets.

and then, at the end of every day, it’s time to make supper.

i hate making supper. it hurts my head. ever since my eating disorder, i struggle with what is normal, and how much, and when, and it’s all so complicated. i was the girl that ate cheese and crackers throughout university, who snacked on marshmallows, and now i have four hungry boys and a man to feed and it’s all a bit much.

so i make menus and i study recipes, but some days, it’s tuna melts on bread with tomato on top, and those are the days joey won’t eat, and trent sends him to bed because he won’t see his wife weep hard for nothing.

and then there are meals in which i serve too much food. “let me help you,” trent tells me, taking the bowl full of tomato soup i’ve poured for aiden, and dumping out half, and it hurts my feelings. because i don’t know portion size.

“i don’t want your help,” i tell him, like the sinner i am.

i just want to be good enough.

i want to be the one to clothe and feed and care for my children and it’s hard to receive help. especially for something as ordinary as portion size. and one night trent takes the plate of spaghetti i’ve dished out for joey and he shoves half of it back in the pot. “he’ll never eat all of that,” he says, and again, i cry.

will i ever be normal? and will correction always hurt this much?

and i’m reminded of aiden falling down the stairs. of me, running and holding him him as any mother would, and then joey pretending to fall down the stairs too.

“oh joey, you don’t have to do that,” i said. “you don’t have to hurt yourself to get my attention. you’ve got it, sweetie.”

i feel like that. like i’m always falling down the stairs trying to get God’s approval.

when i had it, all along.

(‘the springing of the crocus’ by e.wierenga, found here)

The book is becoming reality…

this summer, friends, i’ll be able to offer you both a hardbound and paperbound copy of Chasing Silhouettes: How to Help a Loved One Battling an Eating Disorder.

this work has been long in process, and i have prayed blood and tears hoping someone might believe enough to make this resource reality; this hope for families on the eating disorder journey.

combining my personal story of anorexia along with advice from experts in the field of eating disorders (Remuda Ranch, Mercy Ministries, Brookhaven Hospital, and others) as well as insights from my own family members as they walked with me on the ED journey, i know God is in these pages. and i pray he uses them to break down strongholds. pray with me?

tonight i signed a contract with Ampelon Publishing… a small, beautiful Christian publisher willing to stand behind me in this fight.

and we continue the fight… with you, cheering us on. ((thank you)

it pays to wait, to persevere, to believe. don’t give up, friends. good things are around the corner.

love to you… e.