blogging drew the short stick in my sometimes chaotic schedule. Between traveling to Germany and Austria,
setting up the Swaziland trip for this summer, getting sicker than I’ve been in
years, and running Orphan for a Day events, I’ve been shot by the end
of each day. Mustering excess creative
energy was a pipedream. Now that things
have slowed down just a little, it’s time to finish the story I started in
“Doing What I Don’t Want to Do.”

private struggles and put them on display for everyone to see. I started to blog in 2006 and since then a
large part of my life has been public. I
committed from the beginning to write from an authentic place and resist the
temptation to hide behind Internet manufactured perfection. I wrote about one of the hardest days of my
life in “Dangerous Honesty,” and shared a difficult part of my story in “One
Tough Assignment.”
world was my struggle with food and weight, so in seven years of blogging, that
subject stayed safely locked away in my journal. All that changed the day I preached at Christ
Presbyterian Church.

never been so nervous about preaching.
Up until the moment of admitting my personal battle I toyed with the
idea of steering the message in a safer direction. By the grace of God, I made it through and
verbalized what I was called to say. I messed
up when I said, “I struggled with an eating disorder for 10 years in high
school,” but my slipup served to make everyone laugh and break up any tension
in the room. (If you are interested in
hearing the whole message the sermon is posted on my Mo Journeys Facebook
page.)
of triumph, but I was just tired. I had
what Brene Brown refers to as a “vulnerability hangover” in my favorite TED
talk. Regardless of how I felt, I did
it. I obeyed God in something that might
sound trivial to others, but was a giant step for me.
Honestly, I’m still “straining at the oars.” Some days are great and others are crazy
tough. I realized that I’ve struggled
with food and weight issues since I was 5 years old, and those problems don’t just
go away overnight. What I know now is
that it’s worth it to keep fighting.
have become a huge part of my life) and I was feeling pretty bummed out that
after a year of dedication, I hadn’t made any major changes in weight. I was frustrated and angry with God that this
is such a battle for me. At the same
moment, it felt overwhelmingly massive and stupidly trivial. I was mad that food and weight is MY personal fight.
heard the unmistakably gentle voice of God,
“Morgan, what’s important isn’t where you are at this exact moment, it’s
the fact that you keep fighting.”

