This is a blog I have been putting off for a while. I think there’s a stigma that you have to come to some revelation or the Lord has to have taught you something incredible before you write a blog—you can’t still be in the middle of the mess, let alone not really know how you’re going to move forward.
Not only is this a lie, but it completely contradicts the gospel. We come to Jesus in our mess—not after we have it cleaned up (as if we could even do that on our own).
I want to be as authentic as possible with my blogs. I want to be real. I want to encourage you to be real with the people around you, too. Because you aren’t meant to bear your burdens alone. That’s why the Lord gave us community. It’s okay to be in the middle of a struggle. It’s okay not to be okay. Tell someone you are struggling. Let them walk alongside you and pick you up when you’re down. As humans, we have no shortage of brokenness, so don’t be ashamed to admit it.
“Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.”
-Galatians 6:2
So, here’s one of my messes:
For the past four years especially, I have struggled with my body image. Although, I believe it started much sooner than that. I have been a runner for about 9 years now, and those in the running community know there is an underlying dark side to the sport: comparison.
There is always someone faster than you. There is always someone thinner than you, or someone who has a “better” body.
It’s the name of the game—who is the fastest. Isn’t that the whole point? You’re probably thinking—yeah Rachel, that’s competition for ya. Yes, competition is good when it’s healthy. But if you aren’t careful with how much of your identity you put into it, any defeat could take you down with it. Or the comparison game you play in your mind could leave you continuously dissatisfied with yourself.
In high school, I never had to worry about gaining weight. The joys of being an adolescent that played a strenuous sport with a high metabolism, right? I received frequent comments about how small I was, even though I used to joke about how “fat” I was at the time (I wish I could go back and slap 16 year old me).
A little over three years ago during my sophomore year of college, the Lord stripped me of my identity when he called me to quit the collegiate cross country & track team I was on. The spring before, I had to redshirt track due to an injury, which is where I think the struggle with my body image began. You can read more about that here.
After quitting the team, I was still running and exercising on my own, but it was obviously less strenuous than running on a collegiate team. Slowly, my identity as the “tiny” girl began to dwindle. I was no longer getting comments of how small I was, which I essentially took as—I must be big, right? (Makes perfect sense.) My body was adjusting to less strenuous activity, but it took more of a toll on me than I realized. I would make comments all the time about how I was gaining weight, and how unhappy I was about it. It was typically in a joking manner, but there was a deeper insecurity there.
Fast forward to the race. I read a lot of blogs that talked about how some girls gain weight, while others lose it. Well, I have been placed in the “gain” category—something that terrified me going in.
Put a girl who is generally active and eats healthy into an environment where everything is out of her control—diet, daily schedule, general freedom—and there are going to be changes. Many months, our hosts cook our meals for us, and in most cases, because of budget, they are high in carbs. One of my squad leaders said it best: “Hosts in Central America, Africa, and Asia love Jesus and carbs—in that order.” In Africa, my team even had some experiences where food was continuously put on our plate even after we were done. Not wanting to waste the food or offend our hosts, we would eat more than we wanted to. We began to feel like the kid on Matilda eating the chocolate cake so he doesn’t get put in the chokey.
Even when we are able to cook for ourselves, it generally has to be cheap, which puts health on the back burner. Add that to a lifestyle that doesn’t always allow for the physical activity I am used to—perhaps because it isn’t safe to run in the area, there isn’t time allotted in the schedule for it, or I am just exhausted from a full day of ministry (both physically, emotionally, and spiritually).
Also, after days of bland food and drinking room temperature water, it’s always a treat to get a nice cold coke from the corner store, or get ice cream as a team. Yes, I recognize that I don’t have to do these things, but I wouldn’t change these sweet moments for anything. What I do hate is when I allow myself to feel guilty for them and everything else I put into my body.
Basically, I’m exercising less than I’m used to, and I’m eating more unhealthily than I used to. Basic science, right? I’ve noticed my body evolve on the race right before my eyes, and especially in pictures. Some of the clothes I brought with me are becoming tighter, and some no longer fit me. Getting rid of them is hard enough, because I feel like I’m giving into defeat. Buying bigger clothes? Defeat. What is even harder is seeing squad-mates wearing those same clothes and looking great in them. Then, comparison sneaks in. I have replaced some muscle with fat. My stomach is squishier than I remember. Some of my squad-mates talk about how they’ve lost weight. It all begins to add up.
I know what you’re probably thinking: “Why is she so focused on what she looks like when she is on the adventure of a lifetime and serving the Lord? Shouldn’t she have bigger things to worry about?”
Maybe you’re not thinking that. But that’s what I imagine people think of me when I begin to talk about my struggle, or it’s something I tell myself to invalidate my feelings. These are tactics satan uses to isolate us. “No one understands. You’re being dramatic. No one feels the same way you do.” He wants us to feel alone. Now, this isn’t an excuse to dwell in your struggle, but certainly don’t allow yourself to be isolated. There’s so much power in vulnerability.
I think one of the most frustrating things is that I thought I dealt with my identity when I quit the team. I thought I was saying “Ok, Jesus. You are enough for me. I don’t need the title of collegiate athlete to be Rachel. Being your daughter is enough, and it always will be.”
But did I give him everything?
Obviously not. But that’s okay, because he has more to teach me. Someone recently told me that while it’s easy to get frustrated when something that you thought you dealt with seems to get brought back up again, we shouldn’t think that it was because we failed the first time. Sometimes, it’s a sweet reminder that the father wants to teach us more. He has a new layer of lessons to walk us through, and a lot of times it involves trials in order to get our attention and focus.
When we view it that way, it’s no longer frustrating. I feel honored that the Lord wants to walk through another trial with me.
That being said, I know that my suffering is purposeful.
“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.”
-Romans 5:3-5
Something I’ve really been reflecting on these past few weeks is that I truly want to dig deeper with why I struggle with body image so much.
Why do I still struggle even though I know all of the truths about myself?
Why have I equated body image with my happiness, confidence, and self-worth?
Why have I motivated myself with shame, comparison, jealousy, fear, disappointment, and self-hatred?
Why do I feel shame that I can’t be trusted to “take care” of myself?
Why do I feel as if any compromise of beauty means I’m not worthy to be romantically pursued, or even chosen?
One of the themes of my race is allowing the head knowledge I have to be truly understood in my heart. I could easily look at someone else and say: “You are loved. You are beautiful. You are chosen. You are His.” I could say those things and mean it wholeheartedly. But I struggle to look at myself and say those very same things. I have been coming to terms with the fact that Abba loves me just the way I am. He doesn’t love me with the body I want, but the body I have. He created me. For me to critique it would be to say what he created isn’t good enough.
I could easily coast through the rest of the race, knowing that I can go home in three months, eat right, and exercise. Hypothetically speaking, I could have the body I want and completely avoid dealing with the rootof the issue. But that’s not what I want, and it’s certainly not what I need. Most importantly, seeking this root on the race is going to be beneficial in the long run. My body image issues began well before the race, and I anticipate these jabs to my identity when I return home. What will change is how I combat them with truth, and how I take thoughts captive.
So for now, I am going to allow the father to search my heart and speak his truth to me. What does he want to teach me? What layer is he wanting to peel back this time? I am going to sit still, because I trust that he is going to answer me.
When I signed up for the World Race, I signed up for abandonment. Abandonment of my family, friends, control, and comforts for 11 months. What I tend to forget, though, is that my yes includes the consequences of my abandonment: such as gaining weight due to loss of control. Even so, it’s something I signed up for. Does that make it easier? No. But it makes it worth it.
This is a year of my life I’ll never get back, and I still have three months of it left. I don’t want to spend it obsessing over my body, and wishing I was 15 pounds lighter. I want to enjoy the blessings the father has laid before me. I don’t want to miss things that are right in front of me because I am focused on things that are earthly and therefore trivial.
This is also a year of your life you’ll never get back. Is there something in your life the enemy is using to distract you? To make you unhappy and dissatisfied with yourself? Is it keeping you from carrying out the calling you have on your life?
I would encourage you to ask yourself these questions. Then, sit with the Lord and have him reveal truth to you. This is the process I am going through right now. It’s messy and confusing. I don’t like not feeling like I have something figured out, but if we’re being honest, do we ever? We should be in a constant state of dependency on the Lord that every day we should be saying to him: “God, I can’t do today alone. I am relying on your strength, and not my own.”
