Today is the last day I will wake up to the melodic sound of Pacific waves. It is the last morning I will watch the dolphins make their morning pass. It is the last time for a long time that I will sit on the beach, drinking coffee, and sifting the sand through my toes. I don't want to leave. Regardless of the uncountable amount of people here, I imagine this is what parts of heaven look like. Well, I hope it's what heaven looks like. I'm not big on endless expanses of white fluffy clouds. As Captain Stormfield said, "Singing hymns and waving palm branches through all eternity is pretty when you hear about it in the pulpit, but it's as poor a way to put in valuable time as a body could contrive." Nevertheless, I'd like to think of this as a small glimpse of heaven.
I think this post is past overdue. I've been meaning to write it for a long time, but the timing was never right. I suppose with all the references to heaven made so far, it is only fitting to mention hell. Though not the hell where everyone runs around in red spandex and cackles maniacally. Now before I get accused of being all New-Agey here, give me a chance to explain what I mean. I do believe that there is a hell but I also believe we are capable of visiting Hell numerous times in this lifetime. Many of these hells are self created. They are always intended to be a self defense mechanism at first, but eventually become all consuming.
For me, it has always been my weight. Though with past reflection, it had little to do with my appearance. Just the number on the scale. I was never popular in school. I was quiet. I didn't fit in. I had no control of my social situation. I felt powerless. So, naturally, if I couldn't fit in, I would best everyone by being the thinnest. I thought that this would make me special and different. I thought looking like a magazine cover would give me distinction. It gave me distinction all right, but none of the positives. For years I spent the better hours of my day obsessing over calories, and then food, until it completely consumed every thought in my head. No decision was made without taking into account of calories, food, or how this would impact the scale. Everyday, the number shrank, but the shackles became heavier. I no longer had the physical or mental strength to fight anymore. I know what it's like to wish more than anything I was dead. I know what it's like to hate everything, and find joy in nothing. Neither therapy, pills or conversation helped me. I didn't want to hear any of it. This was one thing that held me in such captivity that I began to love it. I knew no other way, nor was I willing to hear of anything that could help me.
This was the most selfish time in my life. I cared for little. I enjoyed nothing. I was moody. My mental state was weak and my body was shutting down. I was definitely thin, yes, but beauty is rarely equated with skeletal. I took such pride in it, but I hated myself still. I know now that thinness became an idol. We are warned against their destructive powers, but I believe everyone must learn firsthand. It was only facing death that I was able to break it, though it was many months afterward until I was willing to eat healthy. I still struggle every now and then, but looking at the pictures of the past reminds me of what a terrible dark time it was. I weigh a good 15 pounds more than I did, but I can run, think, wrestle, and exert myself more than I ever could. I'm happy now. I love the way I'm shaped, but every now and then, the voice of unreason tries to lure me back to where I was.
You see, we are all weak enough to create hell for ourselves here. Even with the best intentions we can still do it. And though it may be hard for those who are still struggling to hear, you will never get out of this without God. How many times I heard that when I was sick but refused to listen. I couldn't hear it. My ears were completely closed. Though, for encouragement, I do believe that God let me break myself so badly until I could do nothing BUT listen. Even in the darkest of times, He knows the best timing. For that, I am grateful. I could be dead right now, but here I am watching the dolphins and catching snippets of what the world was supposed to be like.
I am lucky to be where I am today. It's easy to forget that.
I think this post is past overdue. I've been meaning to write it for a long time, but the timing was never right. I suppose with all the references to heaven made so far, it is only fitting to mention hell. Though not the hell where everyone runs around in red spandex and cackles maniacally. Now before I get accused of being all New-Agey here, give me a chance to explain what I mean. I do believe that there is a hell but I also believe we are capable of visiting Hell numerous times in this lifetime. Many of these hells are self created. They are always intended to be a self defense mechanism at first, but eventually become all consuming.
For me, it has always been my weight. Though with past reflection, it had little to do with my appearance. Just the number on the scale. I was never popular in school. I was quiet. I didn't fit in. I had no control of my social situation. I felt powerless. So, naturally, if I couldn't fit in, I would best everyone by being the thinnest. I thought that this would make me special and different. I thought looking like a magazine cover would give me distinction. It gave me distinction all right, but none of the positives. For years I spent the better hours of my day obsessing over calories, and then food, until it completely consumed every thought in my head. No decision was made without taking into account of calories, food, or how this would impact the scale. Everyday, the number shrank, but the shackles became heavier. I no longer had the physical or mental strength to fight anymore. I know what it's like to wish more than anything I was dead. I know what it's like to hate everything, and find joy in nothing. Neither therapy, pills or conversation helped me. I didn't want to hear any of it. This was one thing that held me in such captivity that I began to love it. I knew no other way, nor was I willing to hear of anything that could help me.
This was the most selfish time in my life. I cared for little. I enjoyed nothing. I was moody. My mental state was weak and my body was shutting down. I was definitely thin, yes, but beauty is rarely equated with skeletal. I took such pride in it, but I hated myself still. I know now that thinness became an idol. We are warned against their destructive powers, but I believe everyone must learn firsthand. It was only facing death that I was able to break it, though it was many months afterward until I was willing to eat healthy. I still struggle every now and then, but looking at the pictures of the past reminds me of what a terrible dark time it was. I weigh a good 15 pounds more than I did, but I can run, think, wrestle, and exert myself more than I ever could. I'm happy now. I love the way I'm shaped, but every now and then, the voice of unreason tries to lure me back to where I was.
You see, we are all weak enough to create hell for ourselves here. Even with the best intentions we can still do it. And though it may be hard for those who are still struggling to hear, you will never get out of this without God. How many times I heard that when I was sick but refused to listen. I couldn't hear it. My ears were completely closed. Though, for encouragement, I do believe that God let me break myself so badly until I could do nothing BUT listen. Even in the darkest of times, He knows the best timing. For that, I am grateful. I could be dead right now, but here I am watching the dolphins and catching snippets of what the world was supposed to be like.
I am lucky to be where I am today. It's easy to forget that.
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