sin is not my master

For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace. 
That verse, Romans 6:14, popped into my mind this week. It was Wednesday, and I was running on the treadmill — no, sprinting — and thinking about the past month. It's been a hard month, a month full of slipups and setbacks. I've been allowing my weakness to define me, all the while living underneath the fear of the next binge.
Somewhere between my first and second mile, the truth of that verse hit me like a ton of bricks: Sin shall no longer be my master.
I hit the "stop" button and breathlessly started typing a note in my iPhone as quickly as I could:
"Sin is NOT my master. I am not defined by my sin. Sin is gone, taken away. I need to live as a new creation. NEWSFLASH: I have other struggles. I'm sick of people looking at me around food, wondering if I'm okay. This is my struggle, but it is not my identity. Must stop living under the fear of the next possible trigger. Be others-oriented, forget about me, get outside of my mind, recognize the big picture. I'm here on earth for a short time. I have one mission: Tell everyone I know about freedom in Christ and the new life He gives. One goal, one life. No wiggle room for a sin struggle. If I hear that word one more time, I might barf. It has chains on it, chains that say I'm never finding freedom. I HAVE freedom. Look at what I have. Why aren't I living in that newness of life?"
The caps make it look angry. I wasn't angry; I was brimming with fervor for the first time in a long time. Suddenly, I had clarity. I've been completely obsessed with myself for much of this semester, trying stop thinking about food, then falling prey to old habits over and over again. It's a sickening cycle, one that puts me in bondage. It is exactly what Satan wants for me.
I think he also wants me to define myself by this flaw. I meant what I said about the term "sin struggle." What a bullshit word. And "thorn," too. These words slap an identity on me: "sinner."
Satan loves that.
This is the truth: I will still sin, but I am not longer under that law anymore — I am under grace. I'm not a sinner, and I'm not a binge eater.
I'm a child of God, a new creation, and I am free.

under attack

This is exactly how it feels to fight off a binge:

First, there is a thought. It is innocent at first, spoken in a voice resembling my own: Do it. Just indulge. It's okay. You'll feel better. 

Almost immediately, I recognize the lie, the lie that is planted in my mind and stuck in my indwelling sin like glue. I fight back: No, no, no, no, I will NOT give in, I will NOT binge. I think about the unavoidable consequences, the bloat, the way I'd feel for days afterwards. Come on, Melanie, you don't need that. Just feel whatever you're feeling. Don't use food to cope. 

It's a battle.

I've been fighting this battle for a very long time, and sometimes, I cling to God's truth and we win. Then, there are times when I give in.

Like Thursday night. 

For the past few weeks, the lies have been louder than ever. Part of it is still the vulnerability hangover from publishing my series and opening up this chapter of my life to everyone I know. Many people read those articles and concluded that I had conquered this sin. Didn't they read the end? The part when I said I'm still struggling? Hello? Is anybody there?

Mostly, though, I am tired. This thorn in my side does keep me clinging to Christ, but fighting the battle is wearing me down. I'll take another thorn, any thorn, as long as it's not one that revolves around food — food is everywhere and it is integral to daily life. The battle is an everyday battle, and lately, the temptation is unwavering and strong.

This past Thursday, Satan was screaming at me and begging me to binge, to throw it all away, to surrender to food and let it be my god. I gave in. It was raining sideways rain and the temperature was dipping into the forties, but nothing could stop me. I pulled on my rainboots, grabbed some cash and proceeded to go from store to store to buy as many cookies as I could. I'm sure I was a sorry sight on the street that night: a soaking wet, chocolate-smeared, sobbing mess. 

Early in the morning, I took a bus home. I missed an end-of-the-year formal, an Illini Life outreach event and one of my last weekends in Champaign. I chose food over friends, a late-night binge over a night of dancing, solitude over community. I gave in. 

It's Sunday now. A few days have passed since the meltdown. I am allowing myself to rest and know that I'm forgiven, but there is still a strong sense of frustration. It wasn't this hard in December, in January, in February. Now, the temptation has become a constant, unrelenting attack. 

One thing, though, is certain: I want to fight back again. At this very moment, I feel weak, but I also feel more determined than ever. Christ makes me strong, and He will walk me through this deep valley. The battle is grueling and it makes me want to crumble, but I'm not Satan's puppet — I am a daughter of the King, fitted with the armor of Christ.
I'm thinking that might just be enough. 

a note from my best friend

Melanie, 

"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 

“Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world―the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life―comes not from the Father but from the world.The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.” 1 John 2:15-17 

*This is your flesh saying you need to control what you eat. But you don't need to listen to those lies! God's in control if you let him be. The world will soon pass, this body you're in now will soon be gone. 

“But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.” Philippians 3:20-21 

*Don't worry about your earthly body so much, a body which will soon be gone and be replaced by a new and perfect one. 

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God―this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is―his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:1-2 

*Don't listen to your flesh which thirsts for control and power. Trust God's good and perfect will and you'll find his good and perfect peace too. 

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:13

Love,
Courtney

mom's weekend 2013

mommy and me outside my house // best friends and their moms after SNG with Illini Life 

my thorn

A good friend and I were having dinner together on Tuesday night. Over two burrito bowls, I filled her in on my life — last week, the binging, the fury and frustration and fear. She listened, then offered me her thoughts: "Melanie, this is the thorn in your flesh. Food. But God uses these thorns. His power is made perfect in our weaknesses."
She was referring to 2 Corinthians 12, where Paul writes about his thorn — "a messenger of Satan" — that torments him, dragging him down, stealing pride from his highest points. Three times, Paul begged God to take it away, but God said no: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
I can imagine Paul's reaction: Well, shit.
Perhaps that was his first response, or his second. Eventually, Paul found peace in his trials.
"Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
There are many times when I wish I could sit down with Paul and ask for a little more guidance. I want, so desperately, to find joy in my weakness — to be thankful for the nasty thorn in my flesh, the one that oftentimes results in a big, bad binge.
When I was in the thick of last week, my dad sent me a text full of words that resonated deeply: "Be strong in the Lord. Two steps forward, one back is okay. I mess up all the time. It is what keeps us dependent on God."
My thorn undoubtedly keeps me running back to Him, over and over and over again. And it's at those moments when I'm soaring, overconfident in myself and forgetful of Christ, when I crash, burn and binge. That is when food comes to haunt me.
But now, after a week of crashing and burning, I am moving on. The thorn is still there — and it might always be — but it doesn't hurt as much. Physically, the pain and bloat has gone away; emotionally, I'm feeling like myself again.
And spiritually, I'm uncovering more about God's grace than ever before.

vulnerability hangover

A friend of mine recently sent me one of Brené Brown's TED talks. It was about the "vulnerability hangover:" the tough days, the ugly days, the days that come after a person decides to open up.
That's where I'm at right now — emotionally hungover and reeling from the aftermath of my series.
Last week was when everything erupted. My worries and anxieties consumed me, and to deal with the stress, I turned to my familiar fix: binge. Not once, not twice, but three times.
Then, the lies crept in: Melanie, what are you doing? You just wrote an article about how you've moved past this. You're not past this. You're a liar, a hypocrite. You're never getting past this.
Shame.
Today, I'm recovering. I haven't fought food since Friday, and I intend to make this week a healthy one. But my heart still hurts. I'm filled with anger, some for myself and some for others. Beneath that, there is fear. I have absolutely no idea what my summer is going to be like, and the uncertainty of the future is making me sick.
This combination of anger and fear is the perfect recipe for a binge, and I'm fighting harder than ever. Satan knows my weakness. He knows just how to drag me down, further and further, until I'm stuffed to the brim and bawling on the bathroom floor.
Lord, help me to renew my mind this week and remember who I am and who You are. 

this easter

My dad put a little Bible study together for our Easter celebration. We sat around the family room, cousins and aunts and uncles and brothers — and my Jewish gramma — and talked about the meaning of Christ's death, burial and resurrection. For each verse, we switched off reading, and soon my gramma was reading John 11:25-26. "Do you believe this?" she read.

DO YOU?! I wanted to scream, to look into her eyes and beg her to please, please believe it. 

I kept quiet. 

But something stirred in my gramma's heart during our study. Something that encouraged her to ask questions. And for the first time in a long time, she listened to our answers with intent. I'm thinking it was one of those Easter miracles, and oh, I am thankful for the work of the Holy Spirit. 

And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.

Romans 8:1