I really wanted to call this entry Yielded and healed…just to give everyone a little tongue twister…but I’ll just share my silly instead. Love you guys!
Recently heard a great speaker at a meeting. He spoke about significance being a driver for addictive behavior and acting out. I certainly can attest to that.
It was a part of our family story, that a woman’s worth equaled the kind of man she could attract and hold. Worth for doing good on your own was not even discussed. No one asked how I was doing in school, only admonished me for getting poor grades that would embarrass my parents or the family. Usually, it was the boy question. Who are you seeing? What are they like? Do their parents have money? And, with my mother, it was “you better not gain any more weight, nobody likes a fat pig.”
Yes. This is the message I heard, loud and clear. My significance hinged on my outward appearance. The message that in mid-life nearly ruined my health with an eating disorder, in my search for dysfunctional significance. You see, my husband had drifted away, and I was so confused, that I wanted to either punish him, myself or get his attention through starvation.
These kinds of desperate acts, to gain significance only reveal our pain, frustration and anger. With ourselves, and with a world that we cannot control. We find out through the pain and suffering that we cannot eat enough (or too little), use enough, control enough, shop enough dominate through sex enough. Because none of it is really the answer. And if you are like me, you arrive at the very end of yourself and find there are answers, but not to the questions you were asking. But, that’s okay, because maybe those weren’t the right questions to begin with anyway. So, in recovery we begin to discover true significance.
As I took root in recovery, and let the old coping mechanisms die a horrible death as they ought, I found that I could embrace who I was for who I was, not for some ideal that someone else told me I should attain. I had importance to God because I was created. He needed one of me here to do His works, be a part of His plan, as I was willing. And as I grow in my recovery, the more I yield to the plan that God has for me, the more healed of the pain and brokenness I become. It’s not about just sitting in the heavenly healing spa, where Jesus fixes our boo-boos and owwies. It’s about allowing growth and healing to happen as I walk it out.
By the way, it’s not all roses and sunshine. Some days, I need more than my morning coffee to be civil to the world = EGR (extra grace required).
I am significant because God says so. Grateful for His touch and leading in my life. Have a wonderful week, y’all.