reflections in the mirror...

I keep waiting to write...thinking there will be a day when the edge wears off and the soft whispers of joy emerge. EMDR has proven to be quite emotionally challenging. Its as if you invite a nightmare to come and willingly walk into that which torments you the most. The problem remains that I can't will myself to stay in it long enough to benefit from it...only long enough to torture my mind and my heart. Tiffany says that sometimes it just takes time...and i try to believe her and allow hope to continue to be stirred. EMDR is not my redemption...Jesus is...but i do believe this is something He is going to use...if I let Him. Its tricky because in some ways its a battle of time. Trying to get in enough EMDR to help before it makes things bad enough that my mind becomes a maze of fun house mirrors and smokey haze...eventually the haze becomes normal and you become desensitized to your limited vision. Is it about choices? Of course it is...but as I was talking to someone today, someone who totally never reads this blog... that the EMDR causes things to shift. There was a game I played when I was younger where you stacked marbles on top of all these sticks...and slowly each person had to pull out sticks hoping not to make any of the marbles shift and eventually fall through. The sticks have been the dam that I have built over the years and as we pull at the sticks things shift. All the stuff on top was the reason I started falling into an eating disorder to begin with...so when I feel it all shifting and falling I hold onto the thing that has always been my constant...at times tighter then I ever have before. With great pain reflecting through the grasp of my hands I beg life, willing it to leave me be. This world can take away my purity. This world can take my family. This world can take my dreams but you see it can't take away the security of an eating disorder. It can't take away that control...though i know the very essence of what it is has stripped me of the very control i think I have. Smoke and mirrors. Recalling the nightmare and choosing to still let go of the way I have known to live life feels virtually impossible. It feels like you are asking me to breath without air...to run without feet...to talk without a voice. I KNOW I have a God, a Savior, who overcame death. I know I have a relationship with the one who walked on water. So I KNOW nothing is impossible. NOTHING is beyond the power, the reach, the will of the Lord. The is no temptation that is greater than the creator of life... but my heart has stopped feeling...stopped knowing how to imagine the truth as truth. I long for my mind to connect with my heart and to resonate with the love that has already set me free...but with a blank stare i search my own eyes for any trace of life inside the stone cold walls that stand tall, guarding the reflection...the image in the mirror that moves when I move...that breathes in air each time I do. I'm not without hope...for we are never without hope. The day that Jesus died on the cross we lost our excuse to have no hope. Our hope just doesn't play out in the trappings of this world. So I feel stuck. Battling the raging war going on for my mind knowing that what I see isn't what is real...knowing the things which I feel can't be trusted. Praying that the day for the Lord's healing is today. My pastor frequently says that Jesus always speaks with a "go" word. He never tells us to sit still. He would heal in the new testament and then tell them to go and show themselves to the priest or to go and sin no more...there was always a voice that called for action. I know I have to fight...no one can fight for me, people can only fight with me.
On Friday I was incredibly blessed to spend the day with my babies, ask the kids I used to nanny for. I was so so happy to just be with them...and I realized that the thing that I love so much about kids is that they don't know to care about the physical appearance. They didn't even see the tube on my face. They didn't notice if I had gained or lost weight. They didn't see my lack or my strength...they only were able to see me. Parker a few different times just stopped and looked up at me and would say, "Hey Beffy?" I would respond, "Yeah Peanut?" And with those big blue eyes he would just say, "I love you." I couldn't have asked for a more rich and expensive blessing then that. For someone to see me...not the me I present or the me that comes with make up and cute clothes. He was able to see me...and love me. Such a gift from the Lord of a perspective we so quickly lose as we grow up. His view of us. His love for who we were made to be...and for that to be enough.