Guest post by Kat Smith
I wish this was easier; I wish God would just provide healing and escape. But maybe I won’t ever find peace on this earth. Maybe that’s okay.
Someone told me that perhaps my eating disorder is my thorn in the flesh planted by Satan to distract me from God’s plan. I don’t know if they’re right, but either way I want to learn to let Christ be magnified in my weakness.
This is weakness. This is Satan throwing rocks at me while I’m sprawled in the dirt. And yeah, it’s easier to stay down- it hurts less than trying to get up and keep moving.
But the great physician is in my corner. and sometimes he doesn’t heal. Sometimes, He disinfects and stitches and it stings. Some wounds take longer to heal and still they leave ugly scars.
Honestly, it doesn’t feel worth it most days. Sometimes, I think I’m still waiting for God to ‘turn it off’ and fix me. But our joy, purpose, peace, hope, and freedom are not found on earth. Not in the size of my thighs or how many calories I do or don’t eat.
I trade bondage for bondage and feel more comfortable when I’m cuffed. Fitness, food, therapy, acceptance, validation – these ‘goals’ will never save me. They will never satisfy. They offer temporary relief but they’re all just chains. I’ve been carrying unlocked handcuffs because I feel exposed and lost without them.
It sucks that this part of the war won’t just end. It sucks that God hasn’t fixed me. It sucks that I’m often so focused on how much I hate my body and personality, so focused on how to shut up the stupid voice in my head, that I miss the moments around me. I hate that I have to live in this body for the rest of my life because I don’t think I’ll ever find full relief or acceptance on this side of Heaven.
Paul begged God; God said no.
Honestly, I don’t know how Paul did it. I don’t know how he accepted that God wasn’t going to let that wound fully heal. But Paul didn’t let it get infected. He still let Christ tend to his wound even though he knew relief wasn’t an option.
I want that. I so deeply desire for that to be my story. But first, I have to get off the dirty floor, drop the chains that I’ve been clinging to, and say “God, magnify your strength in my utter weakness.”
I don’t know how to do it. I’m really, really bad at surrender. But He knows that. He knit together each and every atom. He won’t give up on me – even when I beg him to – because He is agape love.
Life is so much bigger than me. It’s so much more than my size or my comfort. My calling is so much greater than being small or fit or fitting into an ever-changing standard. My Father’s plan for me is so much better than I could ever ask or imagine. I just have to rest in and trust my Creator.
Kat Smith, April 2022