Peace Like I've Never Known

I feel like all my posts are always very depressing... Maybe I should change the layout colors to something cheerier. That might help...

So anyway, I'll try to share some joy of the Lord in my posts more often, not just my angry encounters with the devil.

This Wednesday, May 12, I did one of the scariest things I've ever had to do in my life.

I spilled my very dirty little secret.

For years Jesse was the only person who knew about my struggle. I just didn't have the courage to tell anyone else. For three years, I lived with the silent burden of my struggle. I missed so many opportunities to share my struggles and victories with girls who were going through similar thigns because I was terrified that my secret might reach my parents' ears. Actually, now that I think about it, I had been wanting to talk to my youth group about my struggle ever since I told Jesse. Wow... that's about a good three years of ignoring God's voice...

A few months ago, God brought this to my heart again. He kept bringing James 5:16 to my mind. Then, Mr. Roberts, our current youth pastor, showed a video at youth about a guy who talked to his youth group about when his father passed away. The guy said he remembers standing to the side of the stage when he had finished talking, and seeing people crying and hugging in the audience. He said he was surprised that God had touched the people's hearts with his story and his words.

I thought, "Okay, God. I get it." I made up my mind. I was going to tell my parents about my struggle.

Well... it took me about two weeks, I think, before I finally got the courage to tell my mom. I was literally paralyzed by fear. I was afraid of how hurt she would be. I was afraid of her losing her trust. In my shortsightedness, I pictured this confessional scene with tears and screaming and anger. God, however, is so, so merciful.

I walked into my mother's room one night when my sisters were all asleep, and showed her something I wrote a while back, when I was still held down by my struggle. When she finished reading, I told her everything. Everything. I told her about skipping meals, about lying to her about what I ate, about feeling worthless and ugly and disgusting. And - God is so good! - she listened. She listened to everything I had to say. She asked questions and genuinely tried to understand. I felt God's peace in that room that night, and was so, so grateful for it.

God wasn't done, however. Even after I told my mom (and she later told my dad), I still felt like there was more to be done. More confessing to be done, to be more precise. I wanted to be completely free to share my story one-on-one without being afraid of it reaching the wrong ears. The days went by, and this idea started nagging at my mind... this idea of starting a blog.

And here we are. [I am resisting the strong urge to insert a smiley here, as it might look immature. So just know I'm smiling as I write this, I guess...]

God blessed me so much with this blog from Day 1. It was a very scary thing I must say, publishing my deep, dark secret for anyone to see. But God brought some very Godly people to encourage me and pray for me, and for that I am deeply grateful.

God wasn't done here, either! Soon, He made it clear He wanted me to share my story with my youth group.

Now, this was scary. I'm a very impulsive person. So, at first, I was like, "Yeah! I'm gonna do this and God, You're going to do so many awesome thigns with this and it's going to be incredible!" So I talked to Mr. Roberts and told him everything about my struggle and wanting to speak to the youth group about it.

Just three weeks later, I found myself facing one of the scariest moments of my life. All of a sudden, standing there in the youth building as people walked in, I wasn't sure if I could do it. I was so nervous, aand the mocha frappe coffee thingy Jesse got me from Mickey D's didn't help the jitteriness...

I don't know if I was delirious with nervousness or what, but I actually got up on stage while the worship band was practicing and decided I was going to sing with them that night. Most people probably do not understand how CRAZY this is. I would have never done that in a million years. Never ever ever. Any other day, I would have been terrified of standing up there. But God works in awesome and strange ways...

Well, Mr. Roberts started the service with prayer, and then told the youth group that I had something to share. I got up there, feeling all funny and shaky and sick inside, but joyful, nonetheless. I knew God was with me, and I knew God was in control.

I didn't even ease the poor kids into it... I just kind of, said it, "For the past several years, I struggled with something called an EDNOS, or eating disorder not otherwise specified." (The name is ridiculous. I think I'm going to try to come up with something that is easier to say.) I felt bad for just jumping in like that, but I didn't really know how else to do it. I mean, seriously, is there any proper way to bring these things up? I don't know. Probably. Good thing is, God worked in spite of my tactlessness. I'm not sure of half the things I said. Once I start talking about girls and beauty and perfection and truth, I get so passionate that it's hard for me to curb my speech.

I know, though, that God did awesome things that night.

Why? Because after I finished talking and I sang with the band, I got this weird feeling all over me. I felt peace like I hadn't known in what seemed like forever. I remember thinking, "Wow. So this is what it's like to be truly alive..."

I loved it. It was wonderful. God was awesome that night. He showed me love greater than I've ever known. He comforted me and supported me through my friends. Especially Deyaun and Yasmine. I love those girls.

It's kind of late, and my writing is losing what little coherence it started out with. Hopefully, since I am in fact on summer break, I can be more consistent with these posts.

Thanks everyone for your love and prayers and just dang awesomeness.

Love,

Ana

The semester has come to an end for me, and I must say I am bitterly disappointed.

My grades are not what I wanted them to be, and the same little chant repeats itself in my head over and over, "I could have done better... I could have tried harder." And, truth is, I probably could have done better, tried harder. Unfortunately, I didn't. I messed up. I blew it.

Again.

Story of my life.

I'd always heard that people who struggle with EDs are often perfectionists by nature. I have never considered myself a perfectionist. Recently, however, I have come to the conclusion that I am the worst kind of perfectionist. The kind that is disturbed and troubled by imperfection but rarely does anything about it, just lets the annoyance and dissatisfaction storm and simmer in her mind till it drives her mad. When she does take action, it is in the most ridiculous, "easy-way-out-fad-diet" way - and I'm not just talking about eating here.

The thing is, I go from one extreme to the other. I'll go for long periods of time understanding that there are things I can't control. All the while, however, imperfection will be nagging at my patience at the back of my mind. Eventually it gets to the point where I explode and I'll do anything just to feel like I'm in control - like I've done my part in perfecting my imperfections.

Now, why the bipolarity of my nature?

Because I fail to seek God first.

Over, and over, and over.

I rely on my own strength. Why? I don't know. It doesn't make any sense to me. I see the very obvious benefits of having the All-Powerful, All-Knowing, Ever-Merciful, Ever-Loving God of the universe backing me up in my Truth-seeking endeavors. Yet, I still choose to do things on my wimpy own.

That's another thing! This is my search for TRUTH. "I am the Way, and the TRUTH, and the Life," says my Jesus. But I ignore Him.

A few nights ago I was lying in bed, almost in tears, asking God why things were becoming so hard in this search, why old temptations and fears kept coming back after years of silence.

Because I cannot do this on my own.

I need to leave my fleshly, power-hungry, control-addict ways.

God give me humility, show me how small I am compared to You, come make me weak.

I love you guys. Thanks for your love and prayers.
You all are awesome.
God has blessed me enormously through each and every one of you.

"I need you to make me weak
I have made my world my own
I've made it my own
And I have never, ever been so alone"