Facing the Mirror

1 John 4:18

“There is no FEAR in love,

But perfect love casts out fear.

For fear has to do with punishment,

and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.”

Wow.

I let the words wash over me.

I write them down,

Type them,

Print them out.

In order to face the fears I feel the need to name them.

God has brought to mind,

In a prayerful moment,

Image upon image of moments of fear in my life.

It was almost like watching a slide show of still shots.

Each moment painful and cuts deep.

I will try to discuss them here as time moves me through this journey.

The first image is one I hold to tightly.

I let it pour over me.

It fits like a glove, because I wear it daily.

I slip my arm through its sleeves

And my legs into the warmth and comfort of its pants.

There in front of me, a mirror.

Tall, unflattering.

The reflection is bright.

Fake smile on my face.

Sadness deep into my eyes.

Hurt welling up on my quivering lips.

This fear is failure.

Images of me, 50lbs less.

Images of me regaining all but 10 of the 60 lbs I once lost.

The fear has such a grip on me it has been the hand

That feeds my weight gain.

It has been the root of the decisions to daily replace

Spiritual comfort with the comfort of unneeded calories.

It has grabbed ahold of the air I breath and offered

A mask of solution, hiding the truth of the deep need for

The food of the Lord.

The lie that I can’t lose weight has been dished out

In the form of extra portions, poor decisions, and unhealthy snacking.

Satan has fed me hand over fist.

And I have eaten.

The food leads to disappointment.

The disappointment to discontent.

The discontent to depression.

This I finally see.

The ugliness and reality of the foothold of  the fear of failure.

I swallow hard.

I disrobe.

Literally.

I stand alone in the bathroom, robe in an empty shell

Resting at my feet.

And I weep.

I am overcome with sadness,

It is followed by a strange sense of joy.

I take a moment to look.

There are scars.

Some visible.

Some invisible.

Many scars.

Stretch marks from babies.

Those are happy marks of life.

Marks I treasure.

There is a scar from kidney surgery.

Long, hugging my right side, since 2008.

The scar of the surgery that saved my life.

That is a happy scar.

The foot long scar down the center of my back.

The surgery that restored my body to near pain free, in 2010.

There are 2 scars on my lower abdomen.

Precious scars that brought forth the life of my precious boys.

 Those scars are hidden.

Their reminder lost in the folds of the result of years of over-eating.

Years of pain-covering placebo’s.

Years of trying not to reach out and just feed the pain.

As I scan the image that is the 34 year old woman I have become,

I am struck with the truth of the verse.

“There is no fear in love.

For fear has to do with punishment,

and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.”

When I look at the ugliness of self hate,

Written across the billboard of my naked body.

I weep.

I step into the shower and let the hot water

Pour over me.

I pray to my Father, my ABBA.

I weep more.

I sing to Him.

I praise Him.

I ask Him to take this fear.

I ask Him to show me how to remove this bondage that

Fits me like a second skin.

I realize I am not alone.

In that moment,

He is with me.

I feel Him look at me with love.

His words rush my mind and my face feels flush.

He loves me with a perfect love.

His answer is to fill myself with more of Him.

What does that look like?

How is that done?

By seeking.

By studying.

By asking.

By praying.

By loving Him.

By trusting that He is a God of love.

That is how.

There is no shortcut.

There is no easy way out.

It is going to be a painstaking walk through

Deep valleys and strongholds that I must walk if I want

To fly.

I want to fly.

I want to soar in His goodness.

I want to delight in Him.

 I grab my loofa.

I add soap.

I wash.

I pray.

I pray God’s love over my body.

I pray for release from my pain.

I trust in His healing.

I let the soap run off and watch the water

Carry it down the drain.

I pray my sin is washed with it.

I dry off.

I slide into my robe, once again.

I sit and I type.

I feel refreshed and redeemed,

Like I have been granted a second chance.

I pray.

I hope.

I rest.

I start to fly.

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4 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Erin said,

    Yes. Beautifully said.

  2. 2

    Lori Frank said,

    Your revealing words leave you not only vulnerable to us as sisters in Christ, but as fellow companions facing the same fears. Your revelations bring tears to my eyes and stream down my face during our silent reading time in class. Your sin is my sin too and instead of comforting each other to stay content as we are with this lie, I stand beside you and say I am with you. I work today to wash the fear and shame away and eat only of His Word of Truth. Your blog is a daily blessing to me to walk my faith so thank you. I love you girl!

  3. 3

    Wendy Erdmann said,

    I am undone by the honesty of your heart and your ability to express it so beautifully. Fear is often such a stronghold in my life, a battle that stares me in the face every day. By the grace of God, we put on our armor and fight the good fight of surrender and faith. Thank-you for such a powerful reflection of this of this in your writing. Sending love and a heart that miss you!

  4. 4

    Becky,
    That was very brave. Bringing fear into the light robs satan of his power. I can relate to the control food has on my life. I’m proud of you. It is not easy!


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