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.

...

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...

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?!

...

”…fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.“ -Hebrews 12:2 NASB 1995

I recall when I was in the throes of an eating disorder, and was daily living in a shame cycle. Shame that was so heavy I couldn’t bear to look my Friend, Jesus, in the eyes.

Until one day, my counselor gave me the advice to invite Jesus into the pit with me. The next night, with an ounce of courage, armed with the faith given to me by my Savior Jesus Christ, I extended an invitation to Him. I said, “Jesus, I'm tired. I can’t stop these behaviors. I don’t want to feel this way anymore, so I invite You to sit with me.” 

Even after this invitation, I didn’t change my behaviors that night. However, I did envision my Friend Jesus sitting with me, and from then on, I was no longer alone. I continued to fix my...

My recovery journey started in early 2004 when I met Constance Rhodes, founder of FINDINGbalance, at a public speaking event. Through her talk, I learned that my eating and body image issues didn’t have to be any worse in order to be valid and worthy of getting help. A year or two later, she asked a question that truly stumped me: "What would occupy your thoughts if you didn't think about food (or body image)?" 

Well, 18-ish years later, I’m excited to report I have an answer! Here it goes… these are some of the things that occupy my thoughts:

•  Procuring coffee with my favorite creamer;
•  When/if I can fit in a nap;
•  Work stuff, time management, and managing my energy;
•  Memories of past events, whether trauma, shame, grief, loss, etc., and then releasing that to Jesus; 
•  Who I can connect with today;
•  What snarky, funny memes do I want to send, and to whom;
•  Plans for the weekend- whether I need to rest, do...

This journey of recovery is full of hills and valleys. It's one step forward and two steps back repeatedly. In this emotional roller coaster where we long to be free, it's so easy to lose sight of our progress. Last night was hard…the last couple of months were hard. Some days I wondered if I had fallen all the way back to the beginning of this journey. Reality is that I can’t go back to “square one”. I am a different person than the one who started this journey; I feel more, I give myself more grace, I listen to my body more, and I am equipped with the truth. Yet I still grow weary and that’s why it’s important to acknowledge the victories.

Today was one those victories. I was at Costco and my favorite yogurt-covered pretzels were on sale (mmm...sweet and salty together). These pretzels only come out once a year. Last year’s version of myself would see them and say "Resist. It is only one month. You can do it", or she would...

I’m going to date myself here, but early in my marriage, we used to watch an evening game show called “Who Wants to Be a Millionaire”. The contestants were asked questions, and with each correct answer, they earned more money in hopes of reaching the million. The more questions you got correct, the harder they got. If the question was too hard, or they found themselves doubting the answer, there was help. Fortunately, they could turn to one of three ‘lifelines’ for assistance, and more times than not they turned to the “phone-a-friend” option. If chosen, they could call a friend and ask them what the answer was.  

How often have you been faced with a moment in your day or week when you didn’t have the answer? Maybe you were sitting under the weight of overwhelm from circumstances beyond your control, needing to make a big decision, or your mind was wanting to do what you knew was the right thing but your spirit felt...

Eating Disorders Day of Prayer: Comfort Received and Given

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” -2 Corinthians 1: 3-4 NIV

Broken But Not Helpless

I was on my knees, face on the floor, sobbing; a loved one was in the throes of an eating disorder, and I felt helpless to do anything about it. I cried out to the Lord, “What can I do about this?”, and the clear answer was, “You can pray.” I wanted to fix it, just make the problem go away. But I couldn’t, and I believe this was the Lord’s way of making me totally trust in Him. So, during this time of “helplessness”, I realized I wasn’t truly helpless, but instead, I had some of the most powerful tools available to me: prayer and God’s Word.

God Uses Our Trials...