First Fruits

wandering with purpose: Hinds Feet on High Places

I love this. So good. He is here, no matter what shouts at you. The one who really, really cares about you, is with you now.

comeupfromthewilderness:

  There are things people do not understand about eating disorders. And there are things I hesitate to say because it is a scary thing to be so vulnerable and honest, especially because all my eating disorder wants me to do is shut my mouth and keep quiet so it can destroy me more quickly, so it can have more of me- the secret parts of me. But no matter how loud that voice is, those parts of me still belong to God.

      Shame is like a cancer. It eats parts of you and then conceals those parts of you so that you believe you have lost them, and then it yells at you when you try to find them and convinces you that you were not worthy to have them in the first place. It screams. Shame is close friends with Effort and Striving and Works. And it is often the precursor for Guilt. Shame says, “Why did you eat that?” “Here, take these scissors and try a thing or two.” “Hide this” And Guilt says, “You should not have thrown that up. You were supposed to be better by now. How many times are you going to let this have you? Don’t you know this will hurt your family? Don’t you know this will destroy your body?” And Guilt doesn’t play fair, because at the same time, it takes Shame’s side and says, “All the same, you have lost control. You are pitiful.”

      In times like this, seasons like this one, where I am dealing with memories and feeling hurt and afraid and alone, when my old coping mechanisms come and twist their hands around my neck and begin whispering “Come and play with us,” it is difficult for me to remember the voice of the Lover. All of the other voices become so prominent and some of them do an awful good job at convincing me that I am the one who asked them in, all the while going through my cabinets and telling me their tea should be sweeter and that my house is dirty and it was awful rude of me to kick them out in the first place; they were only trying to help. And there Jesus sits, calmly, watching everything happen, and not once taking His eyes off of me, not once lowering His gaze or removing His affections from me. But I forget He is there so quickly. I look around at all of the disorder and pain in my vision and say to myself, “Surely, He has left me. Surely He has decided that this is the last straw, that I am too much for Him.” And then, all of the others who have come in do all they can to avert my eyes so that I do not look His way for even a moment. Control and Fear and Anxiety and Depression all doing hideous dances before my eyes so that I remain distracted. Hopelessness and Despair and Regret and Uneasiness screaming at the top of their lungs so that I will pay attention to them. 

        The sad part is that it works. But only for a little while. Because His presence looms larger than their song and dance. Just His presence. Just His nearness. His ears are not closed so that he does not hear. His arm is not short so that He cannot save. He waits patiently. And with every glance I manage to cast His way, He is smiling at me still. He trusts me. Somehow, He knows I will return. Because even if I am being entertained for a short while, or rather, entertaining such garish guests as these, this is still our house. His and mine. And He knows and I know that I cannot leave it. I do not want to. No matter how often Fear and Self Hatred scream at me that I must follow them, that I must see what they have to show me outside, my heart knows His name. He has written it there. This is the place where all of my lessons have been learned. This is the place where the Lion lives. And though all of these Emotions and Indulgences and Impulses currently take up residence, He can speak one word and they all must leave.

      I am not writing this because I want to. I am writing it because I must remind myself that I still know the truth. And I am writing it because I know there are others who know these things as well but Loss and Offense and Denial and Judgment are trying to convince them that it has been stolen, that what they felt they did not really feel, that what they saw they did not really see, that what they believe is nonsense and it’s time to grow up and get a grip on their life. There are precious eyes that must read these words and be reminded that they are precious. There are ears that need to hear and remember the voice of the one who made them. There are scars that need to know they have time to heal. There is light that needs to come. And no matter how much my voice shakes, I will speak the truth, even when nothing inside of me wants me to.  

This is wonderful— definitely lifted and carried my heart in new and meaningful ways. Thank you, beautiful Kristen  <3