For as long as I can remember, my body’s not been enough. I was a chubby little girl, then, an overweight preteen who got diagnosed with bilateral hip dysplasia at age eleven. Enter a bad limp and chronic pain, and doctors telling a tender teen to try and lose weight to be in less pain. Yeah—the eleven years I lived with this broke me down. I felt wholly responsible for my body not being enough and didn’t see it as good. Especially as the chronic pain worsened and gave me more limitations on what I could do to move to keep strong and burn some calories.
I couldn’t control the disintegration and inflammation of these joints, but I could swallow my tears by grabbing fast food, numb the anxiety and depression that swelled with every PMS cycle, and gorge on junk food at places because it gave me something to do. Except then a handful of mornings across my tender years I tried to skip breakfast but felt like crap. Crash-dieting didn’t work, which was a mercy of God, but I consistently felt ashamed of my body, even on the days I dressed extra cute. I’d feel cute until comparison to others around my body crept in, and I retreated inward. I had to rest so much to lessen my chronic pain, so therefore exercise didn’t happen and my hip disability prevented me from doing even simple yoga…or so I thought. I didn’t want to push myself and not be able to perform. So, best not to try. I laughed inwardly when family and friends would call me beautiful and shrugged away compliments over a new lip color or cute outfit, because surely it was a pitying compliment they were paying me.
When I was feelin’ far from twenty-two, God brought healing into my life through means of common grace. A right hip surgery bought me time before needing hip replacements and lessened my chronic pain by 50%. Just as I was reentering my normal life with less pain, so eager to be independent again, a bacterial post-operative infection ended up undoing that eight-hour procedure. Between my twenty-second birthday, that first right hip surgery, and the next June—eleven months—I had four hip surgeries. In February and June of 2016, I got both my hips replaced—years earlier than projected. A mercy, a surprise healing. And still, I numbed the pain, the trauma of those first surgeries that came undone, of missing out on my best friend’s wedding, my grandfather’s funeral, and more.
I got a new job, new clothes, and a new lease on life—on the outside. I was heavier than ever but walking more confidently, even trying the gym awhile—but on the inside? My heart was still bleeding. My self-confidence was riddled with lies, my body that bore stretch marks from puberty and scars from my hip surgeries? I ridiculed and hated it, staring in the mirror listening to the lies of Satan that came through in my own voice: Your weight and shape equal unhealthy, obese. And, You’ll never be a fit, active person. No wonder that guy didn’t want a third date with you if he prefers girls who are into fitness. Yeah, that happened.
It wasn’t in one sweeping dark night of the soul breakthrough moment, but rather a faithful and tender pursuit of God, when I turned, or rather, He turned my heart to light, and to truth. God began to break through piece by piece, and bring me to Himself in a way I’d never experienced before in my life since I prayed the sinner’s prayer at five years old and grew up in church. As He had healed my hips, He began healing my heart and renewing my mind at the same time about my body. It was hard, and it was beautiful.
I went from being grateful that my chronic pain was gone, but bitter and deeply insecure that despite me moving more than ever and strengthening my body messily inconsistent, I was still heavy. I would eat well, then not, and follow similar yo-yo patterns as I had my entire life.
But, God has been teaching me the power and presence of an abiding relationship with Him. That it’s HIS energy I struggle with (Colossians 1:29), and that my body is a dwelling place for His Spirit. At the same time, my body is also in a state of decline between here and eternity. It’s a hard tension to hold—but when walking in freedom from lies and comparison, in the truth that God creates good things and cares about my body, it’s a tension that is good to walk in.
It’s been a long work of God’s power breaking down lies I’ve built up around my body that fuel unhealthy coping habits to being able to say that my body is good. It is strong. Moving it is for its health, not for punishment. My body is worthy of care. Because God created it and called it good.
I still have some limits in flexibility and stamina. I have a “long way to go” before I reach peak physical fitness. But, that’s not my goal. That’s the world’s standard, even in things like BMI numbers. God’s kingdom is not about BMI numbers, but about everyday faithfulness. A long obedience in the same direction—in step with His Spirit, empowered to be mindful, and be thoughtful, in everything we put in our mouths, and in every way we move our bodies.
I’m a work in progress with this, even on days like today when I saw a gain on the scale. But, God and His kingdom are true and unshakeable. This truth is pure and holy because it is rooted in the character of God. The character we are made in the image of. Made to enjoy Him and inspire others to do the same.
So if there are two more things I can encourage you in as we seek to obey and cultivate health and wholeness as children of God, it’s this:
Be willing to be broken. Be willing to let lies and boxes be broken down. Be soft to the work of God in your inmost being—and be grace-full with yourself as you put one foot in front of the other with every meal, snack, and exercise you strive to partake in. Be grace-full, and remember it’s not your energy or adequacy that matters. When that’s all that matters to us, it’s a stressful, hurtful thing, and we miss out on the sweet dependence on God that He desires. Lean into His energy, and do it all—eating, drinking, and moving—for the glory of God. (1 Corinthians 10:31).
Remember—a broken body does not discount His goodness or power. Whether or not a body stays broken, limited, disabled, OR is healed and restored this side of eternity—there is movement to be done, light and truth to be fought for. There is holiness and goodness to be experienced by God’s redemptive, powerful hand on your life. He is good and has made your body good.
Written by Meghan DeWalt
This is an updated edition of a post originally published on Jen Roland
Featured Image by happyveganfit from Pixabay
