So, my homework for counseling is to journal about what the difference is in “What I want people to hear?” and “What I want to say?” when I tell my story. Let me set the stage. I was talking in counseling about how I feel stuck in my life and I want a change, and I want a drastic change, because being the addict that I am, I love chaos. Well, I don’t love it, but I am most comfortable in it. Anyway, my counselor and I were brainstorming ways to change things in life without making my own chaos, like a new haircut or moving or whatever, and she said “Maybe a hobby, or join a club. Or you could share your story”.

I immediately thought “Where would I do that?” following quickly by “I can’t because it’s not over yet” and then I landed on “No one wants to hear that mess”. And so I started sharing about my fear in telling about the things that have happened to me. I’m afraid, and here’s why:

I am afraid of my motives because I am afraid that my only reasoning behind sharing my story would be to assassinate the character of my former husband, and that the people that I want to witness and believe this assassination are never going to see my journey or empathize with it. They can’t.

I am afraid to share because it’s not over. Yes, I am divorced. Yes, I am seeking treatment for anorexia. Yes, I am a self-sufficient adult, but I still cry sometimes, and I forget to pay my bills, and I still have an eating disorder, and sometimes I really like my sin of not eating, so until I get this mess cleaned up, my story is not pretty enough to be shared. 

I am afraid that I will be seen for the grossness that I believe myself to be. It’s true, I feel like a discarded piece of trash that he didn’t want, so he threw me out. And as I fight that lie, I am afraid if I share my story, people will think “He was right to leave you. You’re crazy”. Because, if I am honest, I carry more shame over being a gross abandoned divorced lady than anything else that has ever happened to me or that I have done.

I am afraid that I am seeking to be acclaimed as this totally awesome lady who not only got kicked to the curb by her husband but totally survived it while teaching kids with special needs and knowing two languages. Because I like that about me, but I don’t want it to be why I share. 

But really, as I wrestle through this, I consistently see that what I want to say to people is “Man, this world is totally depraved and crappy and sad. I get that. I know that. I’ve seen it. But in those dark days, the Lord wars for my heart. He fights for my good and sings sweet songs of love over me. Even when I can’t hear them. And He does the same for you”. And I want people to hear that, too. I want people to know how tender and loving Christ is. I want people to know how powerful and strong His name alone is. 

And I am still thinking through this, because I think there is more that I want to say. I think I have been crying out to be heard for a long time, but even if I was heard, I don’t know what I would say. And I think that my eating disorder was me crying out, I think my perfectionism is me crying out, I think my sarcasm and humor is a cry to be heard. Sometimes I just want to know that I am seen and delighted in. That my work matters. That my heart is beautiful. And the wonderful thing about Jesus is that He hears and gives words to the groaning of our hearts. He knows what I need to speak, even though I don’t. He knows what I need to hear, even though I can’t always hear it. 

He gave me a story to share. He wrote it. He knows what others can hear from it, He knows what I need to say by telling it. And He knows that when I share what has been written for me, I am reminded of how He looks at me as His darling, beloved, beautiful, kick-ass daughter. So, maybe the person who needs to hear my story is me. Who knows. 

To be continued…

I recently re-listened to an album I loved many years ago and I heard lyrics that reminded me it’s not over. The opening verse of the song says “I believe in the rest of the story, I believe there’s still ink in the pen…I believe it’s the human condition, we all need to have answers to why, more than ever, I’m ready to say that I will still sleep peacefully with answers out of reach for me”. 

So true for me. I have searched for answers and grasped at straws trying to figure out what happened. Where did it start? When did the lying start? What was really going on? I want the truth, and I keep trying to get it or find it and then I end up created some sort of version of it based on conjecture. I finally reached the end of myself a few weeks ago, and said something profound in counseling. I just asked “When will I stop trying to get something from JD that he will never give me?” Basically, I have to give up the drive to find the truth and the reason in it all. It’s there, and I don’t know it, and I don’t know who knows it, apart from God. 

But the thing is, it’s not over. One day, I will know fully what happened and what went wrong. One day, even if it’s not until I reach heaven, I will fully see what happened and what God did with all of it. And, until that day comes, I will rest in Christ. I will find peace in the Lord, who is not finished yet, and who fully understands my longing to know the details and the why of it all. 

I cannot change what happened way back when. I cannot go back and find hints and clues and dig for truth forever or I will go crazy. I have done that and I am finished. What I can do is what I am doing. I can look at my marriage and look at the things I let happen and the things I did. I can address my anxiety around standing up for myself, I can reconcile myself to the fact that I messed up, that I was manipulated, that I manipulated, and I can grow. 

Because there is still ink in the pen. It’s not over for me. God is still working and I can trust Him even though I don’t know the answers right now. One day I will, and that’s good enough for me. 

I believe in the rest of the story
I believe there’s still ink in the pen
I have wasted my very last day
Trying to change what happened way back when

I believe it’s the human condition
We all need to have answers to why
More than ever, I’m ready to say that I
Will still sleep peacefully
With answers out of reach from me until…

Someday all that’s crazy
All that’s unexplained
Will fall into place
And someday all that’s hazy
Through a clouded glass
Will be clear at last
And sometimes we’re just waiting
For someday

We are born with a lingering hunger
We are born to be unsatisfied
We are strangers who can’t help but wander
And dream about the other side of…

Every puzzle’s missing piece
Every unsolved mystery
More than half of every whole
Rests in the Hands that hold you for someday.

Someday-Nichole Nordeman

So, 2012 was tough. 2012 was adventurous.  2012 was challenging. 2012 was heart wrenching. 2012 was scary. 2012 held lots of redemption. 2012 brought new friends. 2012 brought a new job. 2012 brought an end to my marriage and the beginning of a new life. One I didn’t ask for, but am now glad is here. 

And now, 2012 is over. 

And I was thinking today about what I feel like will happen in 2013. And more than ever before, I feel like there is hope for the return of joy and laughter. I have had many moments this past year where I felt like I would never be okay again. Not in a “life is over” kind of way, but just a feeling of overwhelming loneliness and wondering if this is it. Will I ever get married or have kids? Will I ever fit in with my friends or will I always feel like a charity case? Will I ever have fun again or feel carefree? 

And, I feel like the answer is yes. Yes, I will have fun and enjoy life. In the past month, I have had three separate get-togethers with my friends, and each one brought a new discovery and a hope of the return of “me”. The most memorable moment was at a friend and her husband’s graduation/birthday party. We played a game, and I laughed. My real laugh. The one that comes from my gut and is loud. And I was taken aback because I hadn’t heard that laugh in a long time. Last night, I sat with my friends and played games. Last night, I met new people and enjoyed spending time with the ones I already knew. Last night, I danced and talked and laughed and played.  Last night, I had fun. 

Last night, I remembered who God made me to be. I was silly and honest and vulnerable and safe. I was myself, not the shell of a person who has been surviving the trauma of recent years. So, I have a feeling 2013 is going to be good. Not because I will be happy, but because God is good and no matter what happens this year, He knows what going to happen, and He is healing me. He is the Healer and Binder of Wounds. I just didn’t quite get what He was doing when He broke me, and I still don’t get the binding up process, but it has brought unexpected joy. And I am confident that His joy will be my joy and it will grow in 2013. 

So, here are my resolutions for 2013.

1. Get a library card. I don’t have one for Denton and I need one.

2. Run a marathon (most likely the Big D in April)

3. Go on a date. (Anybody have Ryan Gosling’s number?)

4. Eat a hamburger. 

5. Do something different with my hair.

6. Cuss less. 

7. Memorize at least ten Bible verses. 

8. Go to Karaoke more. And by more, I mean at least five times. 

I am excited for the years to come, and am confident, more than ever before, the God has not forgotten me in this mess. He hasn’t left me here, He has pulled me out. He is working. Happy New Year!

A few years ago, as I prepared to move to Honduras, I was repeatedly asked if I was scared to be in such a dangerous place. Wasn’t I scared? Didn’t I know that people died there?

Yes, I knew that. I also knew that people die in Texas, too. Yeah, Honduras is so dangerous that the Peace Corps doesn’t send volunteers there anymore, and I am not minimizing the danger, but I am not any less safe there than I am in Keller, TX. More than anything, I knew that God has plans for me and He is good and He holds me in His hands, and He knows my days. And, if something happens, yeah, that’s awful, but God isn’t surprised. And He’s still gracious, loving, and kind.

This morning, I was reminded again about how safety is this illusion we have. Children went to one of the safest places for them, their classrooms, and were met there by a person who did unspeakable damage and harm to children, families, and the community. In a small town. In an elementary school. In Connecticut. In the United States of America.

Now, I am not saying that we are all doomed and we are all in danger and we may all get shot when we go to work tomorrow or go shopping, but we might. I might have a car accident on the way home. You might get robbed. He might get cancer. She might be assaulted.

It could happen. We live in a sinful, fallen, dark world. But there’s hope. There’s Jesus. He came, He saw, He conquered. He has your days numbered, He has your plans made, He watches over you. So, we do not live in fear, those of us who know and love the Lord, because we know that He is light in this dark world. Harm will come. We will get hurt. We will fall, but for the believer, our circumstance does not define our safety. Our safety and security is in Christ alone. 

We are not safe because we live in the US. We are not safe because we own a gun or don’t let our kids watch rated R movies or home school them or whatever you may do to keep everyone “safe”. We are secure because of Jesus, and Him alone. Safety is an illusion in this world. But Christ is not. Hold to that as you hug your babies tighter tonight, cling to that truth as you kiss your spouse goodbye. He is good and He holds us, and that is why, as believers, we are safe and secure. In Him we rest. Because of Him, we can have have peaceful slumber.

Well, I did it. I finished the marathon in 4:12:47. It was a really humid, wet, and hilly run, but I felt good. My friend Heather and I started off together, and split up around mile 12. I think we hadn’t taken into account the stride difference in someone who is 5 foot (Heather) and 5’9″ (me), and I was so proud of her because even though it was a hard run for her, she finished! Way to go!

Run Highs:

1.Seeing Mallery, Josh, and Anne Lincoln cheering me on.

2.Running into Jamie Hipp who told me he saw my face on a sign.

3.Having my face on a sign that my friend Carissa made for my co-workers and I who ran.

4.High-fiving the kids on the sidelines, reading the funny signs, and being cheered for. 

Run Lows:

1. Miles 21-26 where people kept saying “you’re almost there, only two more miles.” Then five minutes later someone else would say “Almost there, only four more miles”. And they kept saying “This is the last hill”. All I kept thinking was “You’re all liars! Every last one of you!” 

2. It was kind of misty in the morning, so the roads in certain areas were really slick. 

3. There was a guy running and talking on his phone and it made me so sad to think that people can’t even be quiet during a run, they have to be distracted with Twitter and Facebook and talking on the phone. Just run. And think. That’s what so great about running, it’s uninterrupted think time. 

I am almost completely positive I will run the Cowtown in February, so I will take more pictures then, but enjoy these in the mean time.

I have had a stressful two weeks, and I am so looking forward to a few days off for Christmas. Here are somethings that have been going on.

1. Tomorrow there is a marathon. I am running it. 26. 2 miles, and for the first time, I am running with a partner. This happened randomly, as my running partner, Heather, was supposed to run with someone else, and she got hurt. So, a few twitter messages, phone calls, and texts later, I have a running partner. I think this could be fun!

2. There is a show on Lifetime called “My Life is a Lifetime Movie…” Do they take applications, because I think I qualify.

3. My phone decided to stop charging so I had to get a new one this week. It does not have a real keyboard like my other one, and I am not sure how I feel about this. 

4. I have had a week full of “stress dreams”. My car tires blew out in one and I couldn’t get a mechanic to fix it in time for work, and I couldn’t get a signal to call my boss and I knew a client was coming and I woke up sweaty. In another one, I kept getting sent to different corrals for the marathon, but these corrals were movie theaters, and then once it was the last one, I found my running partner, only to remember that I had forgotten to pick up our packets. Again, woke up sweaty. 

5. My nephew got glasses. This makes me so happy, because now I am not the only person in the house that has glasses. 

6. We had our work Christmas party last night. I was stressed. I was also asked completely inappropriate questions about my divorce, while being super hungry and trying to save the table for my friends, and I wanted to cry. But, in complete and total victory, I neither bitched at anyone or purged my food. Pretty amazing grace from God. 

7. UNT is terrible at paperwork. I interviewed for the counseling master’s program last Friday, only to receive a phone call about it, telling me the dean’s office hadn’t received a paper I had signed, so they couldn’t release my transcript to the counseling program. So I called the Dean’s Office, they said I wasn’t cleared, because they didn’t have the paper, but they said they had received the paper but for some reason I still wasn’t cleared and they aren’t sure why. They said maybe it’s because I haven’t had my meningitis vaccination but that it couldn’t be that because that is listed separately  So, I had to call another office who didn’t know and said they would call back. So, six phone calls, three messages, and two e-mails later, I still have no idea what is going on, but the program decided who was accepted on Thursday, so who knows. The only thing I know for sure is that UNT has screwed up a lot of people’s paperwork. So, maybe I should go somewhere else. 

8. Here’s another thing I have been pondering (for the next stage in life, maybe to undertake in the spring) , but how do people date? Like, how does that work? Where are these people? Am I going to have to internet date? Is that what people do now? I think I’ll become a nun. 

9. Depending on how tomorrow’s run goes, I may do the Cowtown Marathon in February. Stay tuned. 

I plan on making a list of things I thank God for, but I didn’t want to let this day go by without sharing what I am so very grateful for today. Four years ago, on this day, my oldest nephew Max, came into my life. I was driving to Denton to do something at church, when I got a text that said simply “5 cm”, so I thought I had a while, maybe in a few hours I would head down to hospital. Then, I got one that said “Seven”. Then “pushing”. All in a matter of about ten minutes. So, I turned around, headed to the hospital and waited. We didn’t know the sex of the baby, so when Joey came into the waiting room, we were all excited to find out whether Max or Olivia would be the next addition to the family.

Today is a day to give thanks, to praise God for His provision over our lives and the blessing He has given us. I am so very thankful that I have Max. The Lord has used Max’s words to remind me how I am treasured. Max is happy when I get home, he laughs at my jokes, and he wants to play with me. Max reminds me of something that I lost when JD left. Max reminds me that I am wanted.

God has brought me countless belly laughs in the past four years because of a little guy named Max. I am so very thankful for him.

Here are some other things I am grateful for this year:

1.  I am thankful for the Lord. I don’t even have the words to describe my gratitude. He has provided for my every need. He has never left me, and He never will. Lord, You are the giver of good gifts and I have been abundantly blessed by Your hand. I want to serve you and love you forever. My prayer is that I become more like Jesus and that Your grace, kindness, and hope shines through me in all I do.

2. The Vanderveers: I am so thankful I get to live with my sister, Joey, Max, and Graham. I never thought it would work out as well as it has, and I am so glad I have people to come home to everyday.

3. My family. My mom, step-dad, dad, and step-mom, as well as my other sister, Amy, her husband Jared, and my bro Tyler have held my hands, wiped my tears, and helped me so much this past year and a half.

4. My small group/home group (whatever it’s called). I am thankful for everyone in the group, how you have encouraged me this year, and let me be who I am. I know it’s been hard and, at times, uncomfortable, but God has been gracious to show us how to love each other through pain and joy.

5. Chad and Hiroko Farmer- Thanks for the window unit, because without it, I would have died from heat stroke this summer.

6. Laura, Geoff, Mallery, and Josh- Thank you for your friendship and willingness to travel with me to Boston and hold my hand during one of the hardest weekends. We need to plan another trip, this time, without a depressing agenda.

7. Laura Stewart. my bestie. She lets me talk and cry and get pissed. She lets me watch reality Tv and pretend all is right in the world. She lets me do what I need to do to recover, and she always is willing to go to Target.

8. My job. I am thankful I have one. I am thankful I have one where I work with kids I love. I am extremely grateful I work with wonderful men and women. You bring me such happiness and laughter.

9. Graham David: He is happy, funny, and adventurous. Love him!

10. Karaoke. Games. Movies. and all the things that bring me laughter and joy and allow me to spend time with friends.

11. Hot showers. I never take one without praising God, because cold showers in Honduras really made me angry sometimes.

12. Words of encouragement. I am thankful when friends encourage me and let me know they see how hard I am working in my recovery, and that they see good things in me. Those words are a salve to my soul.

13. I am thankful that my body works. I’m gonna be honest here, with how much I have tortured it over the years with not eating and over exercising, it’s a miracle that I can still stand, run, and function well.

14. Facebook and Twitter. I love that I can see my friends around the world and talk to them.

My desire is to be a person who celebrates Thanksgiving each day, and that I can be someone who remembers the blessings I have and is grateful to the Giver of all gifts. So, here are some pictures of the fun things I am thankful for this year…

In the time I have had this blog, I have written about my struggle with anorexia a time or two, so no one is unaware of that demon in my life. However, in the years I have had this blog, I had also been experiencing a time of sobriety and freedom. 

I am not in a time like that right now. If I am completely and utterly honest, I am terrified to eat. 

The past few weeks have been excruciatingly difficult for me as I have begun to wrestle with demons new and old. I have returned to seeing a nutritionist and am currently waiting for a bi-weekly eating disorder support group to begin. I have headed back to war again my “food issues” because with all that has happened to me this past year and a half, the demons are screaming lies at me. Lies I have been hearing since I was young have been coming to the surface in ways which are proving difficult to fight. I am tormented with thoughts like “Everyone is mad at you.” and “They all hate you and are sick of you”. I hear silence from friends as “No one wants you” or “Who do you even think you are to think someone would love you”. I live in constant fear that everyone else is going to figure out how terrible I am and leave. And what it all boils down to, and the biggest lie I hear and listen to is simply…

“I am a worthless piece of crap”. 

Now I do not write this so that you guys will call me and remind me this is not true. I KNOW it is not true, but I struggle to believe it is not true. I, at times, cannot believe that what has been done to me would have been done if I were a worthwhile person. And what does this constant struggle have to do with food? For years, I could not make the connection, but I finally did a few weeks ago.

Because after nearly ten years of breaking down trauma and heartache and fighting anorexia, I had a break through when I realized that I don’t eat because I do not think I am worthy of food. I do not think I am worthy of sitting at a table and nourishing my body. I am so bad and awful that I starve myself. I want to disappear and I do not believe I deserve to take up space, so I physically make myself take up less space by being underweight. 

My nutritionist said something to me in her office last week as I wept from sheer panic and exhaustion.  I told her I don’t deserve to eat and she reminded me that “even murderers and rapists in prison get to eat three times a day and as far as I know, you have done neither of those things”. 

So that is where I am right now. I have had some major successes in the past few weeks and am feeling encouraged in this battle, but the more I realize how deep the enemy has his claws in me with this lie, the more I realize it’s a long hard battle I have to fight. And it’s in those moments, when the battle feels so huge and I feel like I am facing Goliath with a slingshot and some rocks and he has this huge-ass sword, it’s in those moments that I remember that God fights with me, and when I cannot go on, He wars on my behalf. He does not merely throw a punch for me, He WARS on my behalf. He is kicking ass and taking names and in the end, He wins. 

And in the meantime, I will fight that lie. I will remember that truth that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, I am a daughter of the Most High King, I was created in the image of God, I am beloved, I am worthy, I am pure, I am priceless, I am forgiven, I am fought for, I am held close, I am never alone. I am a worthy, priceless treasure, and one day, I will sit down at the banquet table with the King, and I will eat and be full. 

And, before that day comes, I will fight this fight so that I can sit down at the dinner table, nourish my body and believe the truth that I am worthy. And I pray that the women and men who struggle with eating disorders will believe that they too, are worthy to be loved and nourished. God help us in our unbelief. 

There is a song that says “Your love never fails, it never gives up, it never runs out on me…”, and we sang it at small group last night. (Yes, in stereotypical fashion, a group of Christians sat around with an acoustic guitar, shocking, I know!) Anyway, I was thinking about those lyrics, and I don’t know what the author meant, but I know that people often sing those lyrics and think “it never runs out on me” means that it never runs dry, it never ends, it is never finished. And I guess that, for some people, that is a comforting thought, and it’s good and all, but I have never really struggled with God’s love running out, and Him not being able to love me anymore. 

I do struggle with being abandoned, though. Or the fear of it. And as I sang this song last night, I re-thought those words, and I heard in my heart, a small whisper that said “I will never, literally, run out on you”. He won’t. I will never get a call from God that says He got a job somewhere else and is leaving me. I will never come home and see God sitting on the staircase, ready to say goodbye. I will never pull up to my house, and see God’s SUV packed with his things. 

He will never run out on me. His love will never run out on me. It’s not going anywhere.

For me, for you, for anyone. 

His love never ends, it never leaves, it never fails. Even for the ones who do.