I have butterflies in my belly and the only words I could say in prayer have been, “God, use me.”
I started this blog to share my story and a bit of my life, in hopes that in it, at least one woman will find hope and freedom like I have.
Depressed. Anxious. Bulimic. Anorexic. Cutter. Insecure. Self conscious. Broken.
I was a mess.
It’s truly amazing how words from our past can slowly destroy our present, and even if our future, should be allow it to do so.
That three letter word rocked my world.
I was a chubby kid growing up. No doubt about it. I was the “fat kid”. I was the slow kid. I was the unathletic kid. And I knew it. Plenty of my peers made sure I knew it. I proceeded to spend my adolescence and some of my adult life trying to prove to myself, and my peers, that I would no longer be the “fat kid.”
Cue bulimia/anorexia/depression/self harm. If I was skinny, they would like me. If I was skinny, they would want to be friends with me. If I was skinny, the boys would give me attention. If I was skinny, all my problems would disappear.
So I did whatever I had to do to be that skinny girl. And it came with six years of doctor’s appointments, rehabs, counselors, psychiatrists, medication, blood draws, scans, anxiety attacks, heart monitors, you name it.
It didn’t matter how many meals I skipped, how many times I used that razor blade, how many times I made myself sick…the problems were still there. It still pained me to look in the mirror at the girl staring back at me. My problems didn’t disappear, they were magnified.
I remember during one counseling session telling the therapist that I had a hole in my heart, and no matter what I filled it with, I still felt empty. I was grasping at straws trying desperately to fill this void in my life. I knew it was there but it took me years to find out exactly what it was.
I wish I found out what filled that hole much earlier in my life. But I know why I didn’t find it earlier. I didn’t find it earlier because God wanted this to be my story.
You see, that hole, it was God shaped. It was a hole in my heart that could only be filled by the love of Jesus. And He wanted me to suffer in that season of my life. He needed me to. Because He knew I could then use that suffering to somehow make a small impact on someone’s life. Even if it’s just one. Even if it’s just you. Those years of pain were worth it.
I was skeptical. I didn’t grow up in the church. Heck, we weren’t even “Creasters” (you know, the ones who just go to church on Christmas and Easter.) To me, God was kind of like the adult version of Santa, ya know? He gave big kids something to believe in and get excited about. I wasn’t sold.
Until I saw my parents lives change. Drastically. They were beat down from all of my issues. I was their only child and I was broken. They couldn’t fix me and it killed them. I didn’t know it at the time, but they have since shared with me gut wrenching realities that were their lives. Coming home from work to make sure I was alive, just to see me comatose on the couch in a depressed fog. Crying themselves to sleep at night. Seeking marriage counseling because the stress and anxiety of dealing with me hurt their marriage. They were hurting. And for the first time in their lives, though both had suffered unjust pain in their lives, they needed a Savior. They needed something bigger to place their hope in.
We started to go to church. We started to pray. Honestly, being 16 years old and all of a sudden having Jesus-loving parents was pretty strange at first. I was in awe at how their lives had transformed and how they seemed to have this new found peace. But, it took me quite a while to warm up to the whole “man in the sky” idea.
Until one night, around 2am, I broke. I had broken before. I had cut to feel alive. I had drank enough to forget. I had slept away reality. But this time, I don’t know, it was just different. I crawled out of bed, I turned on “Held” by Natalie Grant, and I sobbed. I sobbed so hard I crumpled into a little ball on the floor and just begged Jesus to take this pain from me.
That night, I found hope.
I wish I could say that from then on out, I found confidence and purpose and all of my past demons vanished. But it was a journey. It is a journey. Every day, I have to actively decide that God is King and He has a plan for me. I have to choose to believe that our Lord of Lords did not make a single mistake when he created my being. But you know what? I believe it.
Psalm 139:14 “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”
I promised God that I would use my story to further his Kingdom. And that is exactly what I intend to do.
I am now the proud mama of a sweet baby girl, the wife to an incredible man, a part time teacher, and a health and fitness coach helping women take back their lives. I will shine God’s light in each and every aspect of my life in whatever way I can.
In my blog you will see a bit of my life. You will see how Beachbody coaching has allowed me to pursue my passion in a healthy way. You will see devotionals and ramblings of my heart. You will see recipes and workout tips.
You will see me.