Friday, January 15, 2010
But Only Say the Word and I Shall Be Healed
Every time I go to Mass, at some point, depending on where I'm worshipping, I will find myself on my knees, sitting with my and heart and head bowed, or standing in reverence as I prepare to receive the Eucharist. It's so interesting that I've chosen this spirituality, Roman Catholicism, that has a meal at the heart of it. Me, who's eating is so disordered. Me, who cowering in fear and pain tonight, gave in and ate whatever I wanted to, and in no small measure, and afterward lay the full measure of self-hatred over my obese shoulders.
Just before I partake of the the sacred meal, the Eucharist, I do a little business with God. It's the opposite of the fierce denial and stuffing down pain I experience before a binge. I say, as honestly as I'm capable of, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you." But it's the other part that I'm thinking of in these wee hours, the part in which I say to the Lord, "But only say the word, and I shall be healed."
Most days, like this one, when I'm sick, and sad, and hating myself; when I'm struggling so desperately, and I do mean desperately, and failing, I wish I was the person who Jesus goes, "Daughter, rise up and walk. Your faith has made you whole." And then BLAM! That's it! It's over! No more compulsive eating. No more S.A.D. No more sad. No more fibromylagia. No more bipolar disorder (which happens to be kicking my butt, just in case I led you to believe, like I did myself, that I don't really have that). I want to be that person, so badly, who stands up at Jesus's word and finds herself completely, joyfully, magnificently whole, and then run about telling everyone I know what he's done. I pray, "only say the word and I shall be healed" at every Mass, even when I'm only watching the mass on television! And yet, here I am, with all my issues.
Tonight, I was wondering what it those words really mean. Oh, sure, there's that admission that Christ can do anything, including heal instantly, and supernaturally. But what does they mean to me, still very much aware of these conditions in my body and soul, despite the fact that scriptures say "By His stripes we are healed." Of course I know that scripture! And I know it says, 'are', as in present tense. But...
After my awful binge, I prayed, and I felt the assurance that Jesus indeed, was present, and that everything would be all right. But my mind was wild and restless, and I felt desperate enough to look at Overeaters Anonymous. To tell you the truth, I always thought it was kinda lame. Not that I ever went to a meeting. I thought Al Anon was lame, too, until I went, and learned some tools that may well have saved my life, and possibly Ken's!
Only say the word and I shall be healed, huh? But what if that word to me, in a very personal way, is: "Go to OA." Jesus already told me that he would use food to heal me, and people, and the Eucharist, but the Lord never ruled out counseling, or a twelve step program.
I'm going to call tomorrow. I don't know what is going to happen. All I know is I need help, and I've asked for it in every way I can, and this is my last way of asking. I'm hoping the whole idea really is a God thing, and that he will use it. Really, I'll take anything my sweet Savior wants to do right now. Anything.
I'm going to write about this all. A memoir. I don't know if it can be published. The business is hard right now. But I'll likely start right here. Even if what I write never gets published, I have a feeling I have to write the whole journey, and I'm happy to bring you along with me.
Please pray for me. I'll do the same for you.
Posted by ragamuffin diva at 2:33 AM