Recovery, at least in my experience, is not like in the movies. No running, arms outstretched, into the sunset. More of an embarrassed and painful shuffling – forwards (and sometimes backwards, too). An event – but also a process.
First, the event:
a moment, when everything changed and Christ broke into my world.
A miracle, at least to me.
When I was at my lowest weight, it was like being behind a thick perspex screen: I could see people mouthing and pointing, but they were a long, long way off. No amount of pleading or threatening or waving could break the glass. My hair fell out, my fingers turned black, I was covered in fine body hair and my organs were eating themselves. But I didn’t care. It’s funny: look in the mirror for long enough and you stop seeing yourself. What I needed was someone bigger and more beautiful than anorexia to break in. Which is exactly what Jesus did.’You’re mine’ He said. ‘I love you. But I won’t leave you like this’.
An event. A miracle. But a quiet one, with no special effects. No thunderclap, no car chases and no soft-focus lighting. If you listened, very very carefully, you might have heard a tiny click, as something fell into place. But even that might have been my imagination.
But I’m finding that recovery is more than just an event. It’s a process as well. A rejection of old patterns of thinking – self-hatred, perfectionism, moralism – as well as old behaviours. And this takes time.
God is not Paul Daniels. And getting better is not magic – ‘shazzam! All fixed. When things break, my instinct is to chuck ’em out and get a better model. But people aren’t vacuum cleaners. And God works with what’s already there. I’d like a shiny new airbrushed Emma. But instead, he’s redeeming the limping, snot-nosed girl I’ve always been. He’s taking the bits I hate about myself and making them into something he can use. Something I can’t keep despising – even though that’s the easy option.
So. Recovery – process And event. But the power behind both is not mine. It’s His. And that’s what makes it all worthwhile.
Thanks so much for this post – I think it’s really helpful to see recovery as a process as well as an event.
I often think similarly about forgiveness. When we forgive someone, it is a one-off action, but it can also be a process. It’s the re-choosing to forgive when memories are triggered afresh and old pains resurface. Sometimes it takes more work than just a one-off decision.
What do you think? :-)
Hi Tanya – yes, I think the forgiveness analogy is a good one. And in fact, it’s the whole Christian life: we’re changed and saved and righteous and justified – but that works out on a daily basis too.
Yes indeedy – it’s a both/and. :-)
Hi Emma,
I love what you say about recovery. I have been seeking freedom from my compulsive overeating for a good number of years now. I did a course called New ID which is a 6 week Christian course on eating disorders. It gave me the hope of complete freedom. Its taken years but finally I have allowed Jesus to touch me in the area of my eating.
I was set free from over eating about 6 weeks ago. The emotional link to food, and bingeing has been broken and I am losing weight naturally without trying.
I totally get what you mean about event and process. The overeating has been broken but I am in a process of learning to deal with my emotions without eating. I have all this pain I need to learn how to deal with. I am learning and 6 weeks later I am much calmer. Jesus is helping me to deal with my emotions differently and more wisely!
Great post.
Hi Lynda – well done for letting Jesus into your eating: that’s an enormous and very brave step. It’s a great encouragement to me too: thank you!