All my life I have battled myself.
I have struggled to love and accept both who I am as a person and my outward appearance. Sometimes I feel isolated, but I know I’m not alone. Sometimes I can feel like I’ve lost my peace, but Jesus brings it back.
Several years ago, I devoted myself to a healthier way of life. Over time (with a lot of hard work and discipline) I ended up losing a significant amount of weight. I felt strong. I felt healthy. I was more confident. My clothes fit better and I had more energy.
Then mom got sick. And I slacked a little as I juggled my senior year of college, a part-time job, planning for the World Race, investing in my relationship with mom, and other normal life stuff.
Then mom died. And I slacked even more. In my experience, losing someone you love pretty much zaps you of any and all motivation to take care of yourself, because honestly, does it even matter anymore? So yeah, I’m going to eat the garbage food, because it’s there and it’s easy. (While I’m on the subject, could we agree as a society to stop feeding grieving people so many carbs?!)
Now I am on the World Race. I am smack dab in the middle of a calling. Living out a promise of the Lord. A promise that He was faithful to fulfill. A journey rich with blessings, truth, and life. I’m growing, I’m becoming more attuned to the Lord’s voice, I’m serving, I’m falling in love with cultures and God’s people, I’m sharpening my strengths, I’m humbly acknowledging my weakness.
And apparently, I’m peeling back more layers of past insecurities I thought I had put to death.
I’ve gained weight since Launch in August. Most of the time we are at the mercy of our host and our food budget, but even still I have found it hard to resist the temptation of unhealthy food and overeating. My schedule is also at the mercy of whatever ministry we partner with, and therefore exercise usually gets the shaft when things get hectic. After all is said and done, the past two years have put me back at the starting line (or so it seemed).
And now the old thoughts are haunting me again.
You’re ugly. You’re fat. The weight will never come off, you’ll probably only get fatter as the Race goes on. No man will ever love you, will ever think you’re beautiful if that’s the way you look. You’re powerless, you can’t control yourself!
Down, down, down goes the spiral.
I fight. I struggle. I pray.
I pray. And those prayer sessions aren’t fancy. Heck, they’re pretty much a mess. I sit on my bed, I cry, and I tell God what I’m thinking and feeling. I ask Him for help. I worship Him through music, but mostly through honesty and vulnerability. Then I wait.
I wait for God to pull me close and talk gently to me. To remind me who I am and who He is. To speak truth in love.
I chose this. I said I would leave the comfort of home to serve the Lord. That includes leaving my ability to prepare food that works with my body and not against it. That includes my power to control my own schedule and include my workouts my way.
It’s only a year of my life. And I will do my best in this time frame to live healthily. I pray the Holy Spirit bears the fruit of self-control in me. But ultimately, I have to let go of the expectation that I will look the same way I did back home. The goal is not appearance or comfort or feelings; it’s stewarding the body I’ve been given in a healthy way while I’m loving, serving, and looking more like Christ.
So yeah, I’m a broken person. I have a deep wound regarding my weight, and therefore it triggers my insecurities easily. I desire to feel beautiful. And while I may not always feel it, I know that I am beautiful. I know that my weight will fluctuate, skin will wrinkle, and joints will rust. Outwardly, I’ll slowly deteriorate with time.
But inwardly?
Inwardly, I’m being renewed day by day. I am chosen, wanted, and loved by God. Once I’m home, I will more than likely revert back to the way I looked before the Race, but whether I do or not won’t change my value. Because the value of something is exactly how much someone is willing to pay for it. So my value is, and always will be, the blood of Christ. And let me tell ya, that’s priceless AND unchanging.
As my lovely and wise coach Karen puts it, “you might be at the same battle, but you’re different than before.” I’m not at the starting line. I might be fighting the same battle, but I’m stronger now, smarter now. Whatever battle you’re facing, I highly recommend falling to pieces at the feet of Jesus. It seems upside-down to fight by humbly admitting that you’re weak and you can’t do it alone, but that’s where true strength is found: in vulnerability with the Lord.
Wait for the Lord;
Be strong, and let your heart take courage;
Wait for the Lord!
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Psalm 27:14 (ESV)
