I'm going to jump you around again because I feel strongly that the present also needs to be addressed. When the Lord laid it on my heart to share my story, I was battling. My question was how can I say my journey through anorexia when I clearly wasn't completely on the other side of it. The Lord still told me to write and still told me to call it the journey through.
So here is what the present looks like. Yesterday I woke up with a headache and a decent amount of stress. I could feel the old familiar tug. I started my morning with prayer. God give me the strength to make it through breakfast. I opened my fridge to see no milk (that rules out cereal or protein shake), no bread (that rules out pb&j), and only 1 egg. Hmmm, that seemingly ruled out breakfast for me. I knew I needed to have breakfast so I prayed again that God would give me the strength to make it through breakfast. I contemplated the 1 egg but the thought of eggs yesterday made me feel seriously queasy. Again I prayed for strength to make it through breakfast and finally I decided on instant oatmeal. I forced myself to look past the fact that it wasn't much of a nutritious breakfast and allowed myself to eat it.
Later in the day, sitting in the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant, I was rear-ended while ordering lunch for my kids. I was so frustrated and frazzled. I prayed again, God give me the strength to make it through lunch. I'm not going to lie, if my husband wasn't waiting for me to have lunch with him, I probably would have skipped lunch. My prayer yesterday was almost hourly, give me strength for the next meal. He did.
Some days I can go the whole day without any thought of food struggles. Some weeks I can go without any issues. Some months and years I can go with no struggles. Some days I can only go minutes before feeling the old tug and those days I cover in prayer from start to finish. I don't know how many times yesterday I prayed for God to give me strength to get through the next meal. I do know He is faithful and did indeed give me the strength for the next meal.
Sometimes the lie wins. Some days I forget that God is my strength and I try to make it on my own. Some days I desire to believe the lie because I want to feel numb again. Some days I hurt deeply, and on those days I have no desire to eat because all I can feel is hurt. But most days, I am an overcomer. Most days, I am a survivor. Most days I am through, as in on the other side of anorexia.
Today, I have little resemblance to the aching little girl who starved herself. Today, I actually like myself (most of the time). Today I see my true identity as a daughter of the King, valued and loved. It wasn't always that way. As I walk you through my dark days of anorexia, I want to remind you that this is a story of hope, not one of despair. Please don't look at the dark days and wonder if I ever rose above. Know that I did indeed rise above anorexia. While once anorexia defined my life, now it is an adjective describing a part of my life. It went from being the subject in the sentence of my life to an adjective in the sentence of my life.
Yes, the path I walked was dark. At times it was unbearably dark, but there is a light at the end of the story. There is a light of hope and redemption. There is a light of grace and healing. There is a light that has allowed me to enjoy life again. There is always hope, even when it seems hopeless.