“Mom, I think I have an eating disorder.”

My daughter knew that I had struggled with an ED as a teen, and she was coming to me for help. I was glad that she told me, yet this hit me hard.

At fourteen, I’d spent nine months of my life in a residential treatment facility behind a door that swung shut and locked when we entered (terrifying!) Hearing that my girl was struggling felt like she was implying that I'd been doing something wrong; maybe she had gotten a message from me that her body needed to be different.

I felt embarrassed and ashamed because I thought I had done a good job of “getting over” my ED; I thought I was setting a good example of how to be “healthy.”

Now I was confused and anxious.

I found a therapist and a dietician for my daughter, and before long, the therapist told us that she'd need an intensive treatment program (partial hospitalization PHP). I fought this tooth & nail; anything to keep her in school for...

Are you grateful?

Most of us would probably answer, “Yes”.  But how grateful are we?

It’s easy to be grateful during good times, when life is going beautifully- relationships are joyful and enriching, we’re productive at work, we’re healthy, and fruitful in our ministry. But are we also grateful when life starts to spiral downward; fractured relationships, health concerns, not feeling needed, or doubting our purpose.

Gratitude is a way of life, not just being thankful when life is going well, then being ungrateful when life is hard.

We must make an intentional choice to be grateful.

This can be challenging when life’s stressors escalate. We need an attitude of gratitude that is not dependent on our circumstances.

So how can we cultivate gratitude?

We need to develop a heart posture of humility; being thankful for the Lord’s provision. He knows exactly what we need and when we need it. He has blessed us far more than we deserve,...

I was 8 years old when I got my first look at pornography. 

It was way before the internet, and at that time, this type of book would either come through the mail in a plain brown wrapper or be purchased at an adult bookshop. I can’t tell you how my parents got them, I know it was easy to find them in their closet.

With a bit of effort, I would climb onto an open drawer and up to the top shelf where the stack of “picture books” were. And on stay-at-home days, if my mom was working and out of the house, this was a ritual, something I anticipated. This was the pattern until I was 19 and accepted the Lord. I actually took them with me when I moved out, and then dumped them in a dumpster, like a sacrifice.

At 8 years old, I had no idea what these feelings were going on in my body as I looked at the pictures, but I did know that when I grew up, I would look just like those beautiful women, with large breasts and curvy hips and make-up and manicured nails.

...

By worldly standards, she isn’t pretty or even cute; the world would say she’s big, awkward, and not smart. I have learned many lessons from my friend “Mary”, a woman I called “sister” for no other reason than we both have April birthdays. She's 3 years older than I am, but developmentally she is closer to the age of 8.

Mary had attended my adapted fitness chair exercise class at a community center for many years. One day, we moved into a room with mirrors across the front wall. I asked the class, “Do you like the mirrors?” And Mary chimed that she loves the mirrors, “I like looking at myself”, and as she said those words, my mind raced and I thought-

“Do I like looking at myself? What makes Mary different? What gives her an attitude of joy, instead of dread to see her reflection?”

Later, I asked everyone to move closer to the edge of their chair, and Mary exclaimed, "I can’t because my butt is too...

It was a busy Saturday. I knew the Thursday before that there was going to be no room for anything else in my schedule. The day started with an 8am doctor appointment, followed by drum lessons, watching a football game, and spending the afternoon helping my son with his English assignment. I knew all this going into the weekend; it was planned out perfectly in my head, down to the fact that I had a brief window at 11am to prepare dinner.

Saturday came, and it lived true to my expectations. I was moving from the moment I got out of bed, hopping from one task to the next. I was ready for this day; what I wasn't prepared for is how it made me feel.

7pm came. The appointments were done, the essay was written, the family was fed, and the kitchen cleaned up. I should have felt accomplished, and yet I felt empty.

I stepped outside to take a minute for myself, and the tears began to flow. Why? Exhaustion. I had worked hard. This pain was deeper, though.

As I pondered my tears, I...

“Eleutheria.”

That's the transliteration of the Greek word for “freedom”, used in the FINDINGbalance key verse Galatians 5:1, which says "For freedom Christ has set us free; stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery.” (ESV) In context, this verse is actually about whether we should be living under the Mosaic law and thereby be saved by it (impossible!), or whether we should be saved by Christ and see Him as the fulfillment of the law.

There are so many implications of the freedom talked about in this verse; the point of freedom is not just about what we are saved from. It is about what we are set free for.

We are set free to live for Christ; to live the life He calls each of us to.

Before discussing this freedom, I want to share an anecdotal thought. It seems to me that different people can be prone to having insecurities about specific parts of their bodies. For me, I can find myself struggling with my thighs. Some...

Am I going nuts?

Am I losing my mind?

Why doesn't anyone understand what I’m talking about?

There’s a war going on in my head, and everyone smiles and says, “That’s normal.”

What’s going on here?!

These were the questions that ran through my head daily. I felt so misunderstood, so alone and ashamed of my struggles. Nobody in my world felt the intensity of my struggle. I knew I wasn’t okay and just wished I could go into hiding.

Then a friend introduced me to FINDINGbalance, their Lasting Freedom course, and their prayer groups. I viewed the Lasting Freedom course, and for the first time, people put words to the war inside my head; better yet, they spoke about it with HOPE! They had been where I was and there was a way out! 

In the prayer group, I was nervous to speak about my struggle because these were live people. What would they think of me? To my surprise, they were nodding in agreement as I spoke, and saying “Me,...

I remember well the back-to-school mix of emotions that would fall upon me as summer wound down; I remember the anxiety of seeing people for the first time in months, feeling dread in having to abandon the summer routines I had created for myself, and the discouragement that my summer hadn’t panned out in the perfect way social media portrayed others. 

One summer that sticks out is the one before my senior year of college. I had spent the majority of that summer working hard at recovery and I spent some time in a partial hospitalization program after having already taken off a semester for residential treatment.

In my bubble of that "safe" and recovery-focused world, I felt good. I was proud of the progress I had made and I was excited for the school year to come…until I stepped back on campus. At my dorm, I was greeted with silent reminders that my break hadn’t looked like others'. I was faced with the challenges of living in recovery while...

Just like seasons in nature, there are seasons in life. Sometimes seasons offer safety and predictability, and sometimes they can completely catch us off-guard. The freak snow in April and the hot December day come unexpectedly and disrupt the norm. The same is true in our lives. In my case, it's a prolonged illness that's morphed this summer into something I was not expecting. My visions of day trips with my kids have become hours of watching movies and playing video games. Thoughts of joyfully moving throughout my day have turned into afternoon naps on the couch. It’s not what I wanted for this summer, and that’s difficult. 

In addition to my plans changing, my body has changed too; the lack of movement and the change in my diet have made a difference in how my clothes fit and how I feel in my body. This is more difficult. There was a time a few years ago that this would have set me into a panic. The feeling of being out of control would have consumed me....

It was the first night of 6th grade science camp. All through elementary school, I looked forward to this week away from home; it meant I was a big kid, and adventure, and meeting new people from other schools in the county.

Although it was decades ago, I still remember the initial feeling of exhilaration as I walked into the mess hall for dinner wearing my favorite clothes- a pale blue short-sleeved sweater with tiny flowers on it, green corduroy pants, and suede saddle shoes (brown tones, not the black & white version). I sat down at a table for 8. I can’t remember if I sat at this table because it was assigned or if, because I was late, it was the only one with an empty seat, but every face sitting there was new to me.

As I took a seat, one of the boys asked, “Are you a boy or a girl?” I remember laughing it off; I thought my short hair was the height of femininity, I mean, couldn’t they tell by my pretty floral sweater that I was a girl?!

...