I remember the first time.
I can’t recall what I was wearing but my
flip-flops were a muddled blue in the weak, yellow light of the 4th
floor girls’ dorm bathroom—my feet firmly planted around the toilet seat of the
corner stall. Sick from eating too much food, terrified of what it would do to
my body, and exhausted from years of starving myself and over exercising, I
reasoned it would be easier to just throw up. I did. That was the first time. It
provided twisted relief and I thought I had discovered the solution to all my
body problems.
I was eighteen and a college freshman. Now
25, I sit here a grown woman, still untangling myself from the consequences of
a path I ignorantly started on seven years ago. It is a path of destruction and
shame and lies and condemnation. Through my faith and belief in Jesus Christ, I
can humbly say after years of growth I can now walk in victory most of the
time. Still, I walked that destructive path so many times that even now I sometimes
fall into the ruts, worn so deep, after years of habit.
Friday night was one of those nights. It
started innocently with pizza and birthday cake, but in a momentary stumble in
judgment, I found myself stuffed and headed into the bathroom. I had done this, quite literally, over 1,000
times in seven years. It is mindless for me. But Friday was different.
In the midst of my self-inflicted misery, full
of shame and food, I became aware of Christ’s immediate presence. I saw no
vision, but he was there. I cringed inside as I prayed, “Jesus, I don’t want you
to see me like this. I am sorry. I know I should be better. Just go away from
me until I have cleaned up my mess.”
He didn’t leave. To my confusion I didn’t
sense disgust from Him. He stayed and put his hand on my back to comfort me
while I finished making myself sick. He didn’t shy away from my ugliness. He
didn’t condemn me for my sin. I sensed him saying, “I love you. I always love
you but I think you need to hear it right now, in this moment. I love you. Not
after you have cleaned up. Not after you make up your mind to never do this
again. But now—as you are—I love you.”
The weight of his words nearly stops my heart
even now. I have been motivated to stop my sin by a great number of things—but
none so much as the grace-filled love of Jesus.
But I am no exception. That is the heart of the Gospel:
“8 But God
demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ
died for us.” Romans 5:8.
And though I know that truth on an intellectual
level, to experience His love and acceptance in my ugliest moment takes my
breath away. Leaves me on my face. Makes it worth sharing my shame with you so
I can share His mercy also.
I pray this week that God pins you down with
His love. In the middle of your ugliest moment I hope he floors you with His
grace.
Like Simon Peter we will fall to our knees and
beg him, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8) but
that is not His way. He stays and loves and beckons us into an acceptance that
trumps the allure of sin every time if we let Him. Let Him!
