My Name is Maire
I was raised in a fairly dysfunctional, legalistic but non-Christian church-going family. My mother was very image-conscious and appearance oriented; in her eyes, my being a chubby youngster was a sign of weakness and embarrassed her. She, my father and grandparents consistently put me down and humiliated me over my weight – especially at holidays, which were observed with calorie-laden food. I often felt alone and outcast from my own family; like I was an ugly duckling who was just not good enough to be accepted. As early as age seven, I remember praying fervently to God that He would make me thinner, so that my mother would love me more.
In junior high, I had slimmed down some through a sensible diet and exercise, as I had taken up gymnastics at an early age. my mother said I was still overweight (at 5'5" and 130 lbs.). As the pounds and my dress size dropped, my mother could barely conceal her delight – at last, a daughter in whom she could be proud! In 10th grade, I went on a lettuce & diet coke regimen for a while; then became bulimic. My menstrual period disappeared soon afterward; and my dentist began noticing symmetrical cavities on each of my previously perfect molars. My mother’s suspicion grew. By the time my teachers and mother figured out I had bulimia, I desperately wanted to be free of this addiction but couldn't stop purging. My weight dropped at one point to just below 90 lbs. When I saw pictures of myself from this period, I was shocked and embarrassed by my emaciated appearance, but could not bring myself to keep food down. The feeling of anything in my stomach repulsed me. At the same time, my physical hunger and cravings (I suppose survival instinct kicked in at this time) would not allow me to “control” myself when confronted with the smell and sight of food. It became a daily battle to enter and leave the school cafeteria without binging on everything in sight. One solution I used was to bring a diet shake to school and drink it in the student lounge at lunchtime in the guise of studying. Sometimes, I would take appetite suppressants to “help keep it in check”, but these pills had the unfortunate side effect of making me fall asleep in class.
In September of my sophomore year, intrigued by the name, I joined a group called Campus Crusade for Christ. I had loved Jesus since childhood; the hatefulness I experienced from my religious parents and the nuns in grade school had never been able to change that. In a funny sort of way, the rejection seemed to push me CLOSER to Him, although at the same time I was a little afraid of God the Father. I was so ashamed of my eating disorder behavior; surely God was disgusted and had given up on me. How could He possibly want someone as disgusting as me around? When a young staff woman shared the Gospel with me, and I listened to the testimonies and speaking of some staff members and students, I decided to trust that God loved me unconditionally and would forgive all my sins. I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior, but it was more an intellectual acceptance of Him in my life than a total giving of my life to Him – a true surrender of my will. Deep down, I was frightened that I would never be able to completely submit this ugly secret that controlled my life to His authority.
I had stopped going to church because I felt like a hypocrite. How could I have that close, intimate relationship with God they always talked about, with such a filthy secret? Each time I heard a Christian give his or her glowing, “happily ever after” testimony about how Jesus changed their life from the inside out, I would feel depressed and frustrated. I even began to doubt my salvation.
One subject you will rarely hear addressed in church is that Christians can, and often do, suffer from addictions. Bulimia is a spiritual disease masquerading as a physical one. I had this insight, but it didn't stop me from binging when the uncontrollable urge kicked in. One day, I passed a new "Spirit-filled" church that went up next to a chain store that I often frequent, and noticed their sign for a Healing Room on Saturday mornings. A small ad in the newspaper for it had also caught my eye when I was flipping through, promising "Confidential prayer for physical, emotional and spiritual healing". I was so desperate; I thought what could it hurt?
I had also become addicated to drink and tried to drink my pain away,
One morning I walked in timidly, almost in tears; not knowing what to expect. Three very compassionate, mature Christian women put their hands on me, and prayed earnestly that God would break this bondage in my life; that I would know His forgiveness and healing; even that He would "re-wire" the chemicals in my brain to help break down this stronghold of sin. One of them told me that God longs for me to know Him better - that I knew a lot about Him, but didn't really know Him. They prayed earnestly for a while longer, and I really felt better, cleaner – not different, in that sense I didn't feel anything supernatural; but I had such a strong faith that God had heard their prayer that I resolved to try to again. I went back and received prayer several more times over the next few months.
After my first visit, I stopped drinking completely - all desire left me and I was not overly tempted. One of the women had told me that Jesus had been watching me for a long time, and had had His arm around my shoulder while I was unaware of His presence. I kept that image in my mind whenever I was tempted to seek solace in alcohol, and it worked!
Now, I do believe we have to co-operate with God in overcoming sin - He frees us, but not by waving a magic wand over us, which oftentimes is what we want. My desire for Him grew - for prayer, for the Bible, just for fellowship with Him. Little by little, my idol of ultimate thinness crumbled and was replaced by the joy of knowing I was a daughter of the King. Sometimes, out of habit, I'd still be tempted to binge - like if I were eating lunch just to keep going and going - and I would mentally say: “No; Jesus, you know how I feel right now. You know this unhealthy temptation that threatens to overcome me. I turn to You; I am spiritually hungry; I want to spend time with You; this food will never satisfy; only Your holy presence will fill me” or something like that. Then, I would leave the kitchen, as removing oneself physically from temptation is key, especially in the beginning stages of deliverance; and spend an hour or so in my room with my Bible and a favorite study (at the time I was doing Max Lucado's "Experiencing the Heart of Jesus".) This is not a distraction tactic - this is allowing God to help you, and fill you. Yes, there were some failures. Yes, I got discouraged sometimes. But, I never gave up (which is what Satan would have wanted) and yes; I was truly victorious through Christ who strengthens me in the end. Psalm 40 became my lifeline – I saw bulimia as the “miry pit” from which He saved me. Finally, after so many fruitless years, I was beginning to feel solid Rock under me!
Another area in which I needed to allow God to heal me was in forgiving my mother. Once I was able to come to terms with what true forgiveness is, I realized that I would have to “let her go” in my heart and stop blaming her for my poor decisions. While certainly things in our past can affect and influence us, both for better and for worse, blaming another person for our sin is not biblical and will hamper spiritual growth. I needed to learn to accept personal responsibility for my actions and the years of choosing a lie over the Truth. Also, God has taught me that sometimes forgiving means repeatedly making that decision – each and every day – to keep on forgiving her, regardless of how I may be feeling. This is also an area in which I need His supernatural strength, as I am powerless to overcome my natural bitterness and resentment on my own.
In September 2004, fourteen years after trusting Christ, I made the decision to be baptized. This was a personal symbol between God and me that there was no turning back.
It has now been a year and a half since the last time I binged/purged. Thank you God! While it is tempting to think we can overcome this battle on our own, we cannot. God longs for us to turn to Him with each and every burden and even the darkest of secrets. A book, program or hypnotist will not heal you, but all things are possible with the God Who is on our side.
Marie
I was raised in a fairly dysfunctional, legalistic but non-Christian church-going family. My mother was very image-conscious and appearance oriented; in her eyes, my being a chubby youngster was a sign of weakness and embarrassed her. She, my father and grandparents consistently put me down and humiliated me over my weight – especially at holidays, which were observed with calorie-laden food. I often felt alone and outcast from my own family; like I was an ugly duckling who was just not good enough to be accepted. As early as age seven, I remember praying fervently to God that He would make me thinner, so that my mother would love me more.
In junior high, I had slimmed down some through a sensible diet and exercise, as I had taken up gymnastics at an early age. my mother said I was still overweight (at 5'5" and 130 lbs.). As the pounds and my dress size dropped, my mother could barely conceal her delight – at last, a daughter in whom she could be proud! In 10th grade, I went on a lettuce & diet coke regimen for a while; then became bulimic. My menstrual period disappeared soon afterward; and my dentist began noticing symmetrical cavities on each of my previously perfect molars. My mother’s suspicion grew. By the time my teachers and mother figured out I had bulimia, I desperately wanted to be free of this addiction but couldn't stop purging. My weight dropped at one point to just below 90 lbs. When I saw pictures of myself from this period, I was shocked and embarrassed by my emaciated appearance, but could not bring myself to keep food down. The feeling of anything in my stomach repulsed me. At the same time, my physical hunger and cravings (I suppose survival instinct kicked in at this time) would not allow me to “control” myself when confronted with the smell and sight of food. It became a daily battle to enter and leave the school cafeteria without binging on everything in sight. One solution I used was to bring a diet shake to school and drink it in the student lounge at lunchtime in the guise of studying. Sometimes, I would take appetite suppressants to “help keep it in check”, but these pills had the unfortunate side effect of making me fall asleep in class.
In September of my sophomore year, intrigued by the name, I joined a group called Campus Crusade for Christ. I had loved Jesus since childhood; the hatefulness I experienced from my religious parents and the nuns in grade school had never been able to change that. In a funny sort of way, the rejection seemed to push me CLOSER to Him, although at the same time I was a little afraid of God the Father. I was so ashamed of my eating disorder behavior; surely God was disgusted and had given up on me. How could He possibly want someone as disgusting as me around? When a young staff woman shared the Gospel with me, and I listened to the testimonies and speaking of some staff members and students, I decided to trust that God loved me unconditionally and would forgive all my sins. I accepted Christ as my Lord and Savior, but it was more an intellectual acceptance of Him in my life than a total giving of my life to Him – a true surrender of my will. Deep down, I was frightened that I would never be able to completely submit this ugly secret that controlled my life to His authority.
I had stopped going to church because I felt like a hypocrite. How could I have that close, intimate relationship with God they always talked about, with such a filthy secret? Each time I heard a Christian give his or her glowing, “happily ever after” testimony about how Jesus changed their life from the inside out, I would feel depressed and frustrated. I even began to doubt my salvation.
One subject you will rarely hear addressed in church is that Christians can, and often do, suffer from addictions. Bulimia is a spiritual disease masquerading as a physical one. I had this insight, but it didn't stop me from binging when the uncontrollable urge kicked in. One day, I passed a new "Spirit-filled" church that went up next to a chain store that I often frequent, and noticed their sign for a Healing Room on Saturday mornings. A small ad in the newspaper for it had also caught my eye when I was flipping through, promising "Confidential prayer for physical, emotional and spiritual healing". I was so desperate; I thought what could it hurt?
I had also become addicated to drink and tried to drink my pain away,
One morning I walked in timidly, almost in tears; not knowing what to expect. Three very compassionate, mature Christian women put their hands on me, and prayed earnestly that God would break this bondage in my life; that I would know His forgiveness and healing; even that He would "re-wire" the chemicals in my brain to help break down this stronghold of sin. One of them told me that God longs for me to know Him better - that I knew a lot about Him, but didn't really know Him. They prayed earnestly for a while longer, and I really felt better, cleaner – not different, in that sense I didn't feel anything supernatural; but I had such a strong faith that God had heard their prayer that I resolved to try to again. I went back and received prayer several more times over the next few months.
After my first visit, I stopped drinking completely - all desire left me and I was not overly tempted. One of the women had told me that Jesus had been watching me for a long time, and had had His arm around my shoulder while I was unaware of His presence. I kept that image in my mind whenever I was tempted to seek solace in alcohol, and it worked!
Now, I do believe we have to co-operate with God in overcoming sin - He frees us, but not by waving a magic wand over us, which oftentimes is what we want. My desire for Him grew - for prayer, for the Bible, just for fellowship with Him. Little by little, my idol of ultimate thinness crumbled and was replaced by the joy of knowing I was a daughter of the King. Sometimes, out of habit, I'd still be tempted to binge - like if I were eating lunch just to keep going and going - and I would mentally say: “No; Jesus, you know how I feel right now. You know this unhealthy temptation that threatens to overcome me. I turn to You; I am spiritually hungry; I want to spend time with You; this food will never satisfy; only Your holy presence will fill me” or something like that. Then, I would leave the kitchen, as removing oneself physically from temptation is key, especially in the beginning stages of deliverance; and spend an hour or so in my room with my Bible and a favorite study (at the time I was doing Max Lucado's "Experiencing the Heart of Jesus".) This is not a distraction tactic - this is allowing God to help you, and fill you. Yes, there were some failures. Yes, I got discouraged sometimes. But, I never gave up (which is what Satan would have wanted) and yes; I was truly victorious through Christ who strengthens me in the end. Psalm 40 became my lifeline – I saw bulimia as the “miry pit” from which He saved me. Finally, after so many fruitless years, I was beginning to feel solid Rock under me!
Another area in which I needed to allow God to heal me was in forgiving my mother. Once I was able to come to terms with what true forgiveness is, I realized that I would have to “let her go” in my heart and stop blaming her for my poor decisions. While certainly things in our past can affect and influence us, both for better and for worse, blaming another person for our sin is not biblical and will hamper spiritual growth. I needed to learn to accept personal responsibility for my actions and the years of choosing a lie over the Truth. Also, God has taught me that sometimes forgiving means repeatedly making that decision – each and every day – to keep on forgiving her, regardless of how I may be feeling. This is also an area in which I need His supernatural strength, as I am powerless to overcome my natural bitterness and resentment on my own.
In September 2004, fourteen years after trusting Christ, I made the decision to be baptized. This was a personal symbol between God and me that there was no turning back.
It has now been a year and a half since the last time I binged/purged. Thank you God! While it is tempting to think we can overcome this battle on our own, we cannot. God longs for us to turn to Him with each and every burden and even the darkest of secrets. A book, program or hypnotist will not heal you, but all things are possible with the God Who is on our side.
Marie
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