Let’s talk about 21 days ago
21 days ago, I was really mad at myself. I was at mini debrief and stewing in shame.
Because I thought I was done with body issues, with self hate, with failing my physique. Before I tell you about these 21 days, let me tell you: it’s been a rough 21 years.
I’ve struggled with self care and body image for all of my teenage and adult life. I’ve hit rock bottom and euphoric PR goals in the span of a week, going from binging out of self loathing to celebrating sickly caloric deficits. I’ve worked out for 4+ hours a day, lazed on the couch for weeks at a time, and been utterly exhausted by the bipolar nature of it all.
My low came in my sophomore year of college, the part of my testimony that is so hard for me to tell. What pulls me through the tortured descriptions and painful words is knowing that that season of life was the dusk before my dawn, and that I get to tell it from a place of victory, knowing I’m no longer the character whose life I’m narrating in this story.
Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. – 2 Corinthians 5:17
I had just returned home from school, shaky and uncertain about the decision to withdraw from all my classes and finish out the semester, creditless, in New Jersey, where I could focus on getting my surmounting anxiety under control. The previous two weeks of school had been characterized by a lack of sleep, an abundance of anxiety attacks, and an overall theme of watching my body unravel before my eyes.
I was too anxious to eat, too depleted to do much else. When I forced food down my throat, my stomach forced it back up. When I tried to run as stress relief, I felt weighed down, my face being rubbed in the fact that you can’t train for a half marathon on <400 calories a day. I lost weight at an alarming pace. I felt empty and frail and extremely aware that the last time I couldn’t feed myself or walk was as an infant in diapers.
I came home to a loving sister, who embraced me and didn’t ask too many questions as I dropped my bags in the hall. What she did say, however, good-naturedly and meaning only to encourage, was, “well, you look skinny!” And despicably, I felt a smile creep onto my face, felt a sick sense of pride spread through my body. I was so unhealthy. I was nearing my body’s limits. And yet I was seriously considering the benefits of this anxiety-driven crash diet.
To spare you the details of those few months, I was saved—spiritually, mentally, physically. And that was the end of the story, so I thought.
But 21 days ago, God showed me that I wasn’t done with all that. I was still carrying around the weight of body shame, unhealthy eating habits, obsessive behavior regarding—well, weight. Because I’d never brought it to the foot of the cross and decided to do it His way.
Now, it’s not that my most recent workout regime was biblically prescribed—but the important part is God and I restarted this journey together.
Instead of asking Him to lose a few inches, I prayed for a fruit of the Spirit: self control.
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit. – Galatians 5:22-25
I started 21 Day Fix and worked out with my teammates every day. Every day. Before an early morning at the day care.
After walking 6 miles already that morning. Through a sore throat that I thought would never go away. In three cities. Across two countries.
I reread Reshaping It All by Candace Cameron Bure, a must-read for any believer who wants to take scripturally sound ownership of the body God has given her.
But none of that would have helped without this: I prayed every day for Him to grant me self control. For that day, for that hour, for that workout, for that trip to the fridge. And every time He bestowed that gift upon me, I didn’t feel bogged down. I didn’t feel restricted, or like I was punishing my body. I felt pulled into a deep embrace by my sweet Abba. I understood Him a little better. You see, by teaching me to live with this fruit of the Spirit—of His Spirit—He was revealing to me more and more intimately this facet of His character. And God wants so much for us to seek to know Him better.
For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings. – Hosea 6:6
That was 21 days ago. So what now?
I’m pounds lighter, visibly and demonstratively stronger, back to long runs, and tearfully in awe of what God did these last three weeks. For my body, yes. But for my spirit all the more.
He redeemed this body and declared it His, and so graciously revealed Himself to me in a new and wonderful way.
So put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander. Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation-if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. As you come to him, a living stone rejected by men but in the sight of God chosen and precious, you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. – 1 Peter 2:1-5
The scales may tip, my clothes may stretch. I may even lose a few more pounds. But I won’t lose that insight into His character, or that time we spent refining His temple. I get to live with this fruit of the Spirit, and continue to ask Him for it day after day, to the nourishment of both body and soul.
