Disclaimer: There’s honest mention of eating disordered behaviors in this post. My intent is always, offer hope, not remind of harm. I pray so.
A large painting in progress leans against the fireplace. A practice of mine is to gaze over at an in progress piece or a finished one to decide if “I like what it says”.
This one began subdued and starkly pure in tones, white, ivory, subtle gold and the strong dark grey.
Now, it’s in a different in progress stage, almost done and more strong in color.
Years ago, I wrote a blog post chronicling an encounter with a man who was a splendid storyteller. He was very much a fan of the word “nevertheless”.
He shared his life story in incremental pauses introduced by the word.
I’ve since learned to love the word.
Last week, I stared at my unnamed painting. I knew its story was unfinished and I’d need to be intentional; nevertheless, not force its completion.
As I pondered the piece, a thought and words came.
“You’re worth fighting for, Lisa. You may have never heard those words, but you are and you’ve been ‘worth fighting for’ for all of your life.” Journal entry 5/10/24
So serious. Yes, I know.
Too serious to write about has been my thought.
Nevertheless, there was a new clarity in those never before uttered words.
And I saw the figures in the painting, two angelic and others onlooking in strength and love and that’s what I saw in the little brown-haired girl.
Me.
Her sweet and shy acceptance of that truth she’d made progress in believing but still had a ways to go,
To keep believing, nevertheless.
To keep believing so that she could overcome even more.
Not overcome to be bold or brave or boastful but because overcoming symbolized more.
Led and leads to more.
You are worth overcoming whatever is trying to overcome you.
A few weeks ago I had my first physical with all the bloodwork in several years. A new physician, one recommended by two trusted friends, asked me a question I’d not been asked in decades.
She asked “How is your eating disorder?”
And I sat quietly, I looked intently into her kind face and I answered.
“So good, I am doing so good. It’s been close to 35 years since I’ve had any of those patterns. I’m so glad.”
She nodded.
And waited and I added,
“But there was a moment a few weeks ago. I was home alone. I was feeling less than, feeling the rejection that comes sometimes when we are vulnerable in life and art. I was standing in my kitchen and thought, eat all the butter pecan ice cream and balance it with a bag of burgers and then just throw it all up.”
She listened.
And I added,
“But, I didn’t even though for a moment…not more, I could feel in control, I could punish myself and I could treat food like the love I felt was missing.”
I thanked her for asking. I meant it.
For believing I was worth the question.
And for the way the question led to the remembrance of this realization.
You’re worth fighting for.
What are you battling that requires the lasting embrace of this truth that God has never given up on you?
Don’t give up on yourself.
Get back in there and fight to be aligned with His sweet and sovereign idea of you.
Because I’m convinced this is the key that will unlock the door and that the big deadbolt that keeps the door barred to wellness in our bodies and souls is this…
Insecurity
Insecurity is the voice of your foe. Insecurity blocks the door. Insecurity says “You’re not worth fighting for.”
And insecurity hides in depression, loneliness, hides in a careless attitude about our unhealthy choices,
It hides in the belief that to advocate for oneself is prideful and not humble, is haughty, not meek.
Insecurity says God’s tired of me, tired of listening to me battle this thing,
Insecurity says maybe God doesn’t care anymore, why should I?
“As long as I live I’ll keep praying to him, for he stoops down to listen to my heart’s cry.”
Psalms 116:2 TPT
I promise you, I’d not be sharing these words if God would’ve let me forget them by now.
Nevertheless, I sat in my morning spot, quiet and a little sullen and I heard deep in my soul, the words I’d never heard…
You’re worth fighting for, Lisa
And I answered, wrote him a note with a little girl tone, like a bedtime prayer.
“Thank you, God for helping me be stronger now, to decide I’m worth fighting for.”
You are too.
Believe it.
Continue and believe.
(Sermon to self always first because I stumble too. We all stumble in many ways and most every day.)
Surrender.
“The Lord preserves the simple; when I was brought low, he saved me.”
Psalm 116:6 ESV
And continues to save me.