This is the third in a series of posts where I will share my story and journey with eating, the issues I’ve had with food over the years and how God is so patient and good.
Click here to read the first post in the series.
Click here to read the second post in the series.
We left off where I didn’t hear much from God. I was consumed with sin and I was demanding that I get recovery in my terms and in my design. God doesn’t operate that way. My heart was restless and anxious. I wasn’t focused on what God wanted for my life. I was focused on myself. The sin of Pride. It was eroding my heart.
I finally reached a breaking point with my eating. I had tried and tried to move away from my binging and out-of-control eating to no avail. Praying didn’t make the situation different. I was lost. I finally threw my hands up in the air and essentially gave up. I was mad that I couldn’t hear God’s voice in all of this. I was mad I couldn’t seem to control my own behavior. I was angry I couldn’t fit into any of my clothes any longer. I was angry my slim body was slipping away from me one binge at a time.
So, I stopped trying.
I quit working out (why bother when I’m eating like a pig every day, I surmised). I just let myself eat whatever I wanted in whatever quantity I wanted. Go out to eat at Mexican place? Why yes, I’ll have about three baskets of chips and the entire bean burrito with cheese sauce (enough calories for about two grown men). Marcus wanted to stop by Dairy Queen? Yes, I’ll have a Blizzard in my favorite flavor.
I literally ate whatever I wanted to, every day. I didn’t give myself any limits. No boundaries.
In theory, this is just what I wanted. I had been wanting this for the months following my diet. I craved food night and day. I just wanted to eat everything in sight! Now, I was giving myself permission to do it. I’m not going to lie. I enjoyed it. For a while.
There is pleasure in sin, for a season.
Unfortunately, this enjoyment and pleasure was short lived. The reality of what I was doing to my body and my life would catch up to me eventually.
I would often be sitting at my desk at work or driving somewhere, and I could feel the skin on my sides and hips getting tight and itching. Probably similar to what pregnant mammas experience with their growing bellies. The skin is expanding rapidly, it is growing and can be slightly uncomfortable during the process.
I would have to go buy new, larger, clothes every few months or so. The clothing size numbers kept getting larger and larger. The shame I felt every time I went shopping was overwhelming. I got to the point where I couldn’t go shopping for clothes without crying. I usually went alone.
I had no energy. I felt run down and sluggish all the time. The only thing I looked forward to every day was eating. That joy I got from eating lasted such a short period of time. Then, the shame and overstuffed feeling would take over.
I was at an interesting place in my spiritual journey during this time. I wasn’t praying too much. I didn’t have quiet time daily (or ever), I was in a dysfunctional small group from church (we became great friends with some of the couples, but the group itself was unhealthy).
At one point, I decided to read (for the second time) the book by Beth Moore, “Get Out of That Pit“. I knew I was in a pit. I knew I wasn’t pleasing God with my behavior, but I just didn’t know what to do. The book is great, but I was looking for a magic bullet. I was looking for that perfect answer.
“God, just tell me what to do and I’ll do it!” – I probably prayed that prayer a million times.
I assumed there was a checklist I needed to follow. An “ah-ha” moment I needed to have. That is all I needed, then I could be free from this prison I was in and go on with my life. I was reading this book with the desire to see a magic answer. There was none to be found.
The only word from God I heard during this season was “bring it into the light”. Interesting, I thought. That truly was the ONE thing I hadn’t done. Other than complaining to Marcus about my eating issues occasionally, I didn’t talk to anyone else about it. I kept it to myself. Of course, people could see what I was doing from the weight I was gaining, but I didn’t talk it over with anyone. I realized that is exactly where the devil wants us. Keeping our sin private. Not telling anyone.
The only problem was, I didn’t know who to tell. While I had friends that were Christians, I didn’t have a close enough relationship with them to tell them about these struggles. At least, I didn’t feel comfortable doing it. I felt so much shame and didn’t want to share my struggle with anyone.
So, I started praying that God would provide a way for me to bring this struggle with eating and food into the light.