Sunday, December 12, 2010

Brooke Fraser -Flags

i've mentioned this indirectly {a least a zillion times}, but if anyone were to trace my eating disorder from beginning to end, they would find a road laden with one rejection after another.

i've been told, "no" in nearly every arena of life imaginable. each "no" as i received it, drove me deeper into the arms of my disorder where i found the ability to achieve my own validity, my own success. in my eating disorder, no one could tell me i wasn't good enough or that i didn't make the cut or that they were sorry but they just felt like there was a "better fit" for my life that didn't include having an eating disorder. it was all mine and i could carry it as far as i wanted and i never met anyone who was better at it than i was.

now that i've {finally} reached a place in which i live apart from my disorder, i've found that my life has reached a fullness i know not how to describe. i've also found that the fuel of this fullness is vulnerability {with people, with myself, with God, with everything} and with vulnerability also comes pain.

as i've begun to {fully and truly} live vulnerably i have {of course} found myself experiencing disappointment in various forms and pointing them out to my loved ones and my therapist and relishing in the "i told you so" moments of explaining to them that this is why i had an eating disorder- because these are the types things that always {and will always} happen to me. this is my life. no one picks me and nothing turns out right. this is why i felt the need to seek my own validation for so long.

as i've allowed myself to open again to others and to life and all these accompanying uncertainties, i've grown fearful of the familiar sting of rejection. i've grown fearful that i may continue to taste it and find my eyes pulling in a slow shift- looking behind me to my destructive, protective enemy seeking to separate from painful "no's", once again trading myself and my spirit and taking the safety of numbness in return.

but last evening, after a delightful greek gyro salad across a cozy booth from kelsey boone, i heard a song playing in her car that He wanted me to hear. a song that He is using to remind me that i am promised no earthly accolades or accomplishments {if such things really even exist at all}.

thanks to brooke fraser's flags i am reminded that God's heart is for the lowliest and least recognized. His treasures share no commonality with the world's. His standards of success and validation hold no meaning in society's eyes.

i am so quick to clench my fists around something concrete that i feel i can live for. something that makes me feel my days have meaning and my moments have purpose. i just want to feel like someone picked me, or that there's something i'm better at than anyone else. but in doing so, i forget that i am not long for this world. that i am here for but a moment and that that moment will only hold meaning when i let it go and offer it back to the One who allowed me the opportunity for it's investment in the first place—when i pour it into His overarching purpose and allow Him to make it a living branch of a tree that will flourish. apart from him {no matter who i impress or what i achieve} i am dead.

Jesus, my moment here on earth is all yours. forgive me for forgetting that my attempts at self-validation are in vain. you are all-sustaining —which is why you make no promises of worldly success or acceptance—the world is momentarily quenching, but you are a wellspring of life.


1 comment:

  1. The vulnerability, for me, was key to my recovery.
    That courage to let life in, takes huge amounts of bravery, and although, there is pain, loss, fear, there is also endless amounts of joy, happiness and freedom.
    I love your words, and you are a true inspiration xxxx