Life is Not a Competition; Faith is Not a Competition

I woke up Tuesday morning and did not want to get out of bed. Nothing particular had happened—just felt like a gerbil in a habitrail—same ole thing day after day—or at least that’s how I felt that day. But the dogs were barking, so I got up, let them out, and laid down on the sofa in the den. Some time passed,

and wouldn’t you know it? Those darn dogs wanted to come back in (read above), so I let them back in and moved to the sofa in the living room.

 

So slight confession here—when Chris got up I pretended I was asleep so he would make the coffee. That seems to be the extent of our change in routine—who makes the coffee.

 

I started to get up and thought to myself, “I don’t want to get out of my pj’s today. I just want to lounge around doing what I want.” But then I remembered…

 

August 1^st I joined a Facebook group One for One Hundred. Actually, I joined the group in 2016, and that year I completed it, but I recommitted on August 1^st. Basically, you commit to walking or running at least one mile every day for 100 days straight no exceptions and I had done it—even the day I had an infection. I really didn’t want to do it on Tuesday AND I really didn’t want to be a failure AND I’m a little competitive with myself and others. Not a good combination.

 

I got up and moved to the basement (where there is not another sofa to lie down on). I looked over at the ironing and realized I could iron and be on the zoom calls I had scheduled for that day (truth y’all, ask the Bible study group). Two and half hours later after ironing 37 napkins, 9 pillowcases, 7 sheets, and 4 shirts, I was finished.

 

I was finished ironing and I was finished beating myself up because I didn’t want to and ultimately wasn’t going to complete my mile that day.

 

Here’s where I am—at least for today. Accountability groups are good, lifesaving even (think AA, NA, etc), they are meant to build up and support. Being a part of this accountability group was not doing that for me—it did once, but now instead of being encouraging and supportive, it made me grumpy, self-loathing, and competitive in an unhealthy way. It was standing in the way of me listening to the still small voice (what I consider the Holy Spirit) inside of me saying, “It’s okay. Take this day to do what you need to fill your soul.”

 

While ironing I thought about the upcoming readings for this Sunday. Romans 12:3-4says, “For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of yourself more highly than you ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith God has assigned. For as in one body we have many members, and not all members have the same function.” Faith is not a competition. Life is not a competition. How we live our lives of faith is not a competition. We do not have a measuring stick or measuring cup that proves one person is “more Christian, more Christ-like, more holy, more worthy.”

 

Yes, we are to hold one another accountable, but that does not include making judgments. There is a difference. We each have a calling, a function God is calling us to. For some people it might be marching in protests, for others, it might be stocking food pantries, for others, it might be spending hours in prayer, for others, it might be extending hospitality to all, for others, it might be participating in studies, and the list goes on. There is no particular way that makes someone a “real” Christian.

 

Tuesday the meanie little voice in my head (I call her Darlin’ Devil) was telling me if I didn’t do that mile I wasn’t a “real” runner, a “real” competitor, a “real” athlete. It’s a good group, with good people, and there was a time it was a positive in my life, but not now, and that’s okay.

 

Let’s commit to not being the Darlin’ Devils voice in each other’s head. Let’s support where we are each called because we are all real people created in the image of God and loved unconditionally, no exceptions.

I'm Double Posting Because I Have an Addiction

Little nervous writing this post for two reasons.  First, I know there is a line of self revelation that makes some people uncomfortable and second, the whole double posting in one day thing...

Nonetheless, I'm putting on my big girl panties (read on and you'll see how horrible of a pun this is--leaving it in anyway to make a point) and posting anyway.  I've posted about this before--Wearing a Bikini and The Ridiculously Priced Prom Dress so this isn't a new revelation to the blog world, but more importantly, as I was running this morning on the treadmill at our club looking out the window at the soon to be uncovered pool---my mind went into spasms.  The soon to be uncovering of the pool means it will also be the time to uncover our bodies from their bulky winter clothes--a time of terror for some of us, and it also means exam season is upon us--a stressful time for anyone, but for those of us who need control and find that through restricting food, it's beyond stressful.  So here it is....

I have an addiction--I have an eating disorder--I'm in recovery, but it's still there.  I no longer binge and purge, but sometimes I do restrict--or I at least think about restricting--okay I restrict.  My eating disorder has never gone away and I suspect it never will.  For years it was a secret--a secret my family wanted to keep--a secret which led to my feelings of inadequacy and shame. There is debate (An article on the debate) about whether eating disorders are addictions, but I believe they are; I know they are because I live it every day.

Why now?  Why do I feel I have to speak out now?  Is it just because of the pool--kind of.  It's also because my children know people who are suffering right now or who are on the other side of suffering, and we talk about it.  It's because I sometimes hear people say things like, "Well I'm glad that's over." and I want to scream, "No it's not!!!"  It's because while more people are open about eating disorders there are still many who live with the secret, who live with feelings of isolation and shame, and I want to be the open door for even one person to walk through.  I want to say to others, yes it is a life long struggle but it does not define you and it does not mean you will live a life of misery.  You are so much more than your eating disorder--it's part of you but you can learn to healthily co-exist.

How does my eating disorder affect me today?  I weigh myself three times every morning on a scale

that has decimal points as well as the whole numbers so I can see any change in weight up or down. And I write it down in a special calendar I keep. Is this healthy? Absolutely not, but it's a crutch for me--it's not the worst thing I could do, but it's certainly not the best.  When I look in a mirror if I can't see my head I think to myself, "That body (yes I don't use the first person) looks pretty good." but the minute I see my face attached to the body I switch to the first person and see not the decent looking athletic body of a middle aged woman, but every single one of my flaws. They seem to jump out at me--to light up like an x-ray or the Operation board game--buzzing and lighting up.  I try to stop my mind from doing this, and I can't. When I'm going through any stress, any loss, any emotional time I start to think about controlling my food intake.  When I say I start to think about it, I mean I start to think about it non stop all day.  It invades every thought.  I plan how many bites I will take at dinner, how few meals I will eat during the day, and I tell no one.  Those are my secrets...

My eating disorder also affects my family.  On days I'm feeling "big" when my husband puts his arm around my waist I cringe and pull away afraid he will feel my "fat." It hurts him. People sometimes ask me, "how do you parent two daughters (please don't forget eating disorders affect boys too) knowing you've suffered from an eating disorder?"  The truth is, not well.  I never know what to say when one of them says, "I've put on weight" or cries because they don't like how they look in something.  I know what I don't want to say; I know how I don't want them to feel.  I do my best but it's all polluted with my own stuff.

My eating disorder also affects my interactions with others.  I seethe inside when I hear someone say, "She would be so beautiful if she just lost weight." and yet weight in others is one of the first things I see.  I don't see it as they've gained or lost weight, but I judge, I compare, my body to everyone else's. I always lose.  People's comments about weight casually mentioned and forgotten by most reverberate in my mind for days (like the above pun about putting on your big girl panties).  I limit time around people who only want to talk about their weight or other people's weight--if I don't I'll spew fury that may not be warranted.  I cry when someone tells me about how they've been hurt by others because of their weight.  (I don't always cry in front of them, but I always cry...) When I see books advertised that claim in five easy steps you can love your body I want to scream--"for some of us it's not that easy--don't buy that book!", but I also try to read anything that may help me understand, help me learn more coping skills, help me be an advocate.

I'm double posting today--I'm double posting for anyone who may read this and for a minute not feel so alone.  I'm double posting today for anyone who wants or needs someone to talk to, please contact me. I'm double posting today for all those families who have been open about their struggle and for all those families who feel they have to hide. And I'm double posting today in celebration of the courage so many have had fighting this terrible addiction--keep fighting, you're worth it. I'm double posting today because I have an addiction...