"If you don't see the real me, you won't see what love has won..." Vota

Friday, January 29, 2010

Speaking Truth to My Issues

Actually the title of today's study, "Speaking Truth to Your Issues", made me laugh. My issues... Whoa little horsey let's not go to fast here; I have some serious issues, let me tell you. I won't share them all with you, for... yeah well, let's just say they are a burden for me much less others, my friends. I think the thought of having "issues" is quite a humerous one. Like putting a sensor bar over a bare behind or something and calling it a "you know what" intsead of a you know what. You know like candy coating bad news. Well anyways, my "issues" past through present range all over the scale from legal to illegal, from physical to emotional, from outwardly imposed to self imposed... OK, well I am a drama queen so illegal may be a stretch... nope, not really though. Anywho... Jennifer brings up the story of the bleeding woman in Mark who talked to herself (yes we women have been talking to ourselves since Jesus walked around like us) and told herself that the only way she was going to be healed was to touch Jesus' robe. Talk about some serious faith talking... She told herself the Truth about her "issues". Her issues of having bled for 12 years, being considered unclean for anyone to touch, sit near, much less snuggle up next to for 12 long years... Can you imagine what this term "issues" encompases for her? Mark tells us that she sought the care of physicians to the extent that she was financially exhausted and her illness was only made worse (I don't know about you, but I wonder what kind of treatment made her worse-- I think this was even before blood letting and leaching--eeeww). Can you imagine her insecurites, her shame, having her lable of "unclean" for 12 years, let alone the physical symptoms of enemia (losing blood for 12 years wouldn't leave a person very strong-- at least I assume as much). This woman, in the pit I imagine, told herself some serious Truth. Go see Jesus.

Now, this may make us uncomfortable, but we really can not go see Jesus and touch His cloak like she did. He was the Man form of God. He is gone... BUT He sent us someone even better. He sent us the Holy Spirit. We need to arm our closets with the fact the the Holy Spirit resides in us-- our Counselor. Wasn't "seeking counsel" one of the ways to have wisdom? I was a little shocked that she didn't mention our God given and God filled Counselor-- the Holy Spirit when she talked about seeking counsel yesterday.

We need to make sure we tell our selves with all of our issues (real or illusive) the Truth. Get in touch with the Holy Spirit. We need to arm ourselves against our issues with the Power of the Holy Spirit. So here is my story... Don't run and start gossiping now about this lady who calls herself a Christian with all the "issues"... I'll share this and hope you will not judge me.

Growing up I was always insecure about my weight. (I am not sure why looking back at pictures of myself, I looked pretty good.) It could be the fact that I bloomed a little earlier and looked quite a bit older than the other girls my age. Well, anyway, I was very active. I played soccer (indoor and out year round), cheered, ran, danced (my passion), played softball, I loved aerobics and any kind of exercise... that all was until I met a very controlling, Baptist boyfriend my freshman year of college whom I, well, placed at the top of my priorities-- yes, even over God. He told me lies (called me names I should say-- and not too pretty ones either) because of my dancing, he hated my friends and therefore I had to stop having them (or making new ones for that matter), he hated my family, he hated me working (which I had ALWAYS worked and worked hard)... let's just say he liked me isolated, inactive and  cooking his food. Well not a big shocker that I gained weight-- a lot of weight. I went from 140 my freshman year able to leg press 400lbs and run miles without dropping dead from a heart attack, to being jiggly at 220lbs or more (I refused to weigh myself).  OK, so this story only gets worse.

After three years I finally realized what had happened and the pedastal I had placed this man upon and where I was headed... I called it off. I had to get some control. I thought I could crawl out of the pit with my own strength. So I had to get some control. OK, so now that I didn't have him making my decisions, I got control all right.  I was able to control what I ate and when. Yup, like ate nothing. I made a deal with myself (this is pretty sick so beware). I told myself if I went all week, Monday through Friday, without a bite of food I could have a few bites on the weekends. This control felt amazing. I was able to do it and even often refused my reward of a few bites on the weekends. I also walked on the treadmill at the school gym every day. My pants were falling off of me very quickly. Like in just a few weeks. People noticed it too. They complimented me and wanted to know what I was doing. They told me I was doing a good job, that I looked great. So, I just told them I started watching what I was eating. Uh, yeah to say the least.

I lost, I don't know 80 lbs in about three months. I was back to my old jeans from high school. It felt awesome. Well, the pants did, my stomach actually had started digesting itself. I had this horrible burning feeling ALL the time. My doctor said it was an ulcer. OK, so this story is getting a bit long. It wasn't long before Ernie (we had become friends again) figured out (80% at least) what I was doing and wouldn't let me not eat. Now my body had been starved for so long it went on a storing binge I imagine. Everything I ate stuck to my you know what. I then began what I have now dealt with for the last 10 years-- yo-yo dieting. Now, I am at it again. I lost 60 pounds last year and have replaced it with a new 30. I am back on my wagon of heathy eating (for real this time) and exercise.

I used to love exercise, now I loath it. So here comes the thing I tell myself as I am sweating, hating life and hurting during exersise. I actually talk to God and tell Him just how bad I hate what I am doing and plead with Him for success. I tell Him how I do not want to become diabetic. I tell Him how I do not want to have knee replacements one day. I tell Him how I am tired of having my back hurt all the time. He knows, but I tell Him anyway. You know what? I make it through my workout. I even feel good afterwards. After nearly 2 weeks of this I have lost 5 pounds. That's 5 down 25 to go.

You know these "issues" have made me tell myself some doozies. I've labled myself as fat (even though this is not a word we use in my house-- I will not allow my girls to be affected by unhealthy body image). I've assumed nothing will ever change. I've told myself that I am ugly and worthless. I even wonder why Ernie still loves me and finds me attractive. I just presume that if someone is giving me a compliment it is just one of those little white lies. Well, I warned you, I have some "issues". This is the least of them, let me tell you. Here God is at work in me cleaning out my closet. I hope that this overhaul doesn't frighten you away.

I do not dwell on my past, it is just another step that led me to my Savior. I love the song, "God Blessed the Broken Road". This is my love song to Jesus, my Bridegroom. The road that led me to Him was so broken. My heart was so broken. I was so broken. Only in this broken state could I ever see Jesus for who He really was. Mine. My One True Love. This road so full of "issues" that I have been ashamed of so often, regretful of even more... it was the road that brought me into the open arms of Jesus.

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