Thursday, April 26, 2012

Learning to cry again

I know you know your Sunday songs
A dozen verses by memory
Yeah they're good but life is hard
And days get long
You gotta know God can handle your honesty
So feel the things your feeling
Name your fears and doubts
Don't stuff your shame and sadness, loneliness and anger
Let it out, let it out

You don't need to run
You don't need to speak
Baby take some time
Let those prayers roll down your cheek
It maybe tomorrow
You'll be past the sorrow
But tonight it's alright

Just cry
Just cry
-
Lyrics by Mandisa, song titled Just Cry from the Album What if we were real?


I have always asked the same question, why me God, why did you give me such a defective body, I mean did you think about this before you created me?  Seriously these hips, this butt, and what about all this cellulite, really?!  What were you thinking?  And don't get me started on my boobs.  These are all questions I have honestly asked.  Not to mention the whole unfair thing.  A pity party on why I can't eat or drink as I please and not put on any weight, it is so unfair.  Talk about a whining middle school student.  But hey, we all have to ask those questions to get to the answer.  If we are never honest with ourselves we can never open our hearts and ears to hear the truth that we so desperately seek.  So while the questions may be shallow and self-centered they were asked for a reason, and now I have my answer.


Growing up I was always able to find comfort at home via my parents and my sisters.  While it was not perfect, it was perfect to me, my comfort.  I was always the most happy and content at home.  Then I left home and went to college.  Massive shake up in my little world and for the first time in my life food or more so candy became a source of comfort, a reminder I was still loved.  I was a Christian at this point but never felt the need to rely on God for my comfort yet, I could still rely on everything I saw first, He was more of a trinket, something I went to when in trouble.


I also got married during my college years, and quickly jumped to my husband being my source of comfort along with food.  And then alcohol.  I have never been an addict but when you use anything as a way to relax, cope with loneliness, and as a comforting tool, it becomes a problem.  I now had three new sources of comfort, food, my husband, and alcohol.  None of which were healthy.  None of which were what I really needed.


My dad
Life has a funny way of flipping the script on you and letting you know you are not in charge, you don't know what is going to happen next, you are not in control.  I was never really happy with my coping mechanisms yet I did not have the courage or honestly to go to the true source, Christ.  Then my so- called happy little life came crashing down on me.  The person I saw as my christ, my dad, was taken from me via cancer in 2005.  I was angry.  Actually I was pissed, how could God do this to me, and why?  So again I used food to comfort.  I also used my body.  If I could just get skinny, fit and trim like all those girls on TV, then I would be happy again.  If I could control this one thing, the hurt would go away and I would feel balanced again.  If I could just be skinny, and have my ideal body, the pain would be gone.  But once again that failed.


Finally I let down that wall, my anger, and my hurt faded, and I left my heart open to bleed and feel.  I was forced to face for the first time in my who I was and what I had become.  Who was my God?  Who needed to be my God?  What do I do now without my dad, who can I turn to?  Dad always had the answers, he would be strong for me.  And who would take care of my mom?   I needed her, but she needed dad.  How could life continue without dad.   And that answer came as softly as an ocean breeze, I am here, I am waiting, I can heal your broken heart, I love you, I am your God and your Father, and your dad is so happy to be here with Me.  I know what I am doing, just rest and trust in Me.


I let go that day.  And for the first time discovered my life in Christ.  I discovered who I was and who I was meant to live for.  Many turns and twists along the way, but I began the journey I was meant to ride along on.  I actually started reading the Bible for the first time because I wanted to, not because I was forced to.  But I never let go of the desire for a new and better body.  I still asked those same questions and was never willing to hear the answer, because honestly I was not ready for the answer until now.

To be continued . . . . .. 

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