Several months ago, the idea of speaking out about my eating disorder started popping periodically into my mind. Originally nothing more than a thought in passing, the desire to go through with it only got stronger as time went on. After prayerful consideration, I had such a sense of peace at the thought of openly stating that I am recovering from anorexia that I knew it was the right thing for me to do. Throughout this journey of recovery, the God I turned my back on in my disorder has been drawing me back to Him. I have been relearning to trust Him—to trust that He has plans for me and will not fail me. Certainly not an easy process, but I feel myself ever so painstakingly slowly becoming more obedient and willing to fly on wings of faith. Having an eating disorder may not be something anyone wishes for—not anyone who knows the realities, at least—but it has become a fact of my life. Now, I’m working on being able to own that fact and, therefore, my recovery. Sharing my story was just another step along the way once I reached a point where I knew that it was the right thing for me to do.

Reaching such a point started with needing to own my own recovery. No one else can do it for me and external motivators can only get me so far. Finding internal motivators is still a work in progress for me, but I’m getting there slowly. Finally reaching a point where I could take some ownership of my past struggles and current recovery was a turning point for me though. Before that point, I had struggled to even believe that I had an ED. I could believe that I maybe had some disordered eating habits, but a legitimate eating disorder that deserved to be treated? Miss Ana would never let me see the truth because as long as I don’t have a problem, I don’t have anything to recover from. After many conversations with K about the validity of my eating disorder, it eventually clicked, and I started see that I really do have something to recover from.

From here, I began fostering a yearning to bring hope to others through my story. I have watched some incredible transformations in girls on their own journeys to recovery, and I know how inspiring I find some of them to be. Being able to watch someone else go before you and succeed at recovery can be a huge source of hope that maybe, just maybe, you can do the same thing—maybe recovery can be yours too. Regardless of what someone is dealing with, my hope is that through sharing my story, one person may be helped in some form or fashion.

Beyond helping someone in their own journey, I want to help others understand. The National Eating Disorders Association may have come a long way in terms of eating disorder awareness, but stigma still exists. I’ve never been one to sit on the sidelines, watching as others jump right in and get things done; I want to be part of the action. Once I reached a point in recovery where I felt as if I was prepared to handle the spectrum of possible responses to my story, I decided that I was ready to be a part of this incredible movement to raise awareness and end some of the stigma. Many people only have a surface level understanding of what an eating disorder really is. They can see the tip of the iceberg, but rarely realize that so much more lies underneath the water. Beside the fact that it is therapeutic for me, raising awareness is a large part of why I began blogging in the first place.

I was already rested in my decision to tell my story, but K telling me her rendition of the story of Gideon was, well, for starters, quite entertaining. On a more practical level though, the comparison she made afterwards hit home with me. See, God sent Gideon and his army into their enemy’s camp in the dead of night with nothing more than trumpets and clay water pitchers which contained a burning candle, and probably some sand for good measure. Once within the camp, all of the men dropped their pitchers and blasted their trumpets; the noise startled their enemy; and God moved, giving the victory to Gideon and his men. K’s whole point in recounting this story was to draw a comparison between Christians and the clay water pitchers. In many ways, followers of Christ are like pieces of pottery with candles inside. It’s only through the cracks in the pottery that the candle can shine through. In the same way, it’s through our weaknesses that God shines through the most. I’ve put too much effort into trying to fix, hide, and beautify my cracks. It’s about time I stripped myself down to being a bare piece of pottery once again, allowing God to shine through my weaknesses.