Being in church for the past ten years, I have heard this verse quoted time and time again. You shall know the Truth, and the Truth shall set you free. However, I do not believe that it was until this past week that I really understood what that meant. I am thankful for all of the things God has done in my life over the past few years, and I am thankful for every trial I have faced, but never have I experienced thanksgiving like I am experiencing it now. The weight of the world has been lifted off of my shoulders and the chains that have kept me in bondage are truly breaking off of me.
Growing up, I was a problem child. While I do not remember most of my childhood, I remember one thing specifically: I was disobedient. Through my constant disobedience and inability to act like "good children" did, I was diagnosed with ADHD and put on medication that caused severe hallucinations and nightmares. As I got older, the label was taken away and the medicine was stopped. My behavior was improving in many instances. I began giving myself more and more to my schoolwork, and it was partially the focus of my life. However, it was at this time that I began to understand that whatever labels were put on me, I needed to match up to. I was a bad child, so I needed to be punished. Soon I would learn how to begin doing that.
While my behavior in school was improving, the constant torment and abuse that I was enduring in school was not. From as far back as I can remember, I was bullied in school. Physically, verbally, and emotionally abused. Thank God that He protected me from any sexual abuse that could have made an even greater indent on my life. By the time I entered sixth grade, I still held onto the label of being a misbehaved child and eventually took on the label of being "worthless" because it was the way my peers treated me, and sadly enough, even my teachers a lot of the time. Moving from Tennessee to Illinois in fifth grade was a culture shock for me, and I did not respond well to it. I was withdrawn, I was awkward, I was different -- and kids made sure that I knew that.
So, a "bad kid" and "worthless" became the two labels that I would live under. I began believing that I deserved to be punished more than I had been in order to "fix myself." I was a larger kid (by no means large) when I was in middle school, and that, of course, added to my worthlessness. So, both believing that I deserved punishment and that I would be less worthless if I was prettier or if I was skinnier, I began to not let myself eat. Somehow I began to believe that this would "fix me" and that it would affect the identity I had been given at such a young age, but it only began to get worse.
In seventh grade I became so depressed that I would lie in bed from the moment I got home from school until leaving for school the next morning. I would either completely numb myself or feel so much hatred toward myself that I would uncontrollably weep, and I was terrified to go to school because I did not want to face the torment. However, now a new label was placed over me -- depressed. Soon enough, the cops and professionals were involved in my life. I knew that only I could fix me, though, so I made sure that they left my life as quickly as they had entered.
I had new labels to live up to. I realized that starving myself was not fixing me and that it was not creating a less worthless person. So, if I could not change and become a better person, I decided it would be best to live up to these labels. I sank into an even deeper depression, believing that it was my new identity. My eating disorder continued to be a part of my life, as well as my new-found form of punishment -- cutting, and by the time I was a senior in high school, these things were not only a label, they were my entire life. I was doing something right. I was becoming something, and I was damn good at it.
It was not until I was 18 years old that I officially allowed myself to be diagnosed with an eating disorder, because I wanted to make sure I had succeeded enough at it before I admitted it. It was a label I placed over my life -- no one else, at this point -- and until I had fully succeeded, I was not going to let anyone.
However, once diagnosed with bulimia (a failure in itself, because I believed you had to be an anorexic to truly be sick -- I was just weak), I believed, truly believed, it was who it was, and I was going to give the rest of my life over to being just that -- bulimic. And so the next few years continued, falling deeper and deeper as a prey into this disease.
Of course I have been a Christian since I was a freshman in high school, and I had heard things like "the old has gone, the new has come" and that I am "free from sin" and that, when I was baptized, I became a "new creation." However, understanding those things and believing them enough to walk in them seemed nearly impossible. I believed that the labels I had already been striving to conform to were the labels I would have to keep shooting for.
So, I continued living up to my identity. I was depressed. I was bulimic. And as long as I believed those things, I would continue to be those things. Finally losing my cognitive abilities and my physical health, finally ending up hospitalized, finally being successful and finally being someone caused me to want to continue even further into the spiral of illness. I continued to believe the lie from my childhood that I was a "bad kid" and needed to be punished, and I continued to live up to these things.
Up until now. It took me being told that I am dying to truly want to live. And not because I'm choosing to, but because God is opening my eyes.
Two truths have smacked me in the face over the past week. And I have experienced breakthrough like never before due to the realization of these truths. I've heard them for most of my life. I've pretended I've believed them for most of my life. But I've never understood them enough to believe them.
And now I believe them.
I have died to sin. I am dead to sin. And Jesus has already taken the punishment for my sins. I no longer need to punish myself, and I no longer need to measure up to the label of being a "bad kid." Not only do I not need to be punished for my sins, but I don't have to live in sin. I don't have to sin. My label is not that of a sinner, or in earthly terms "a bad kid/person," -- my new label is that of holy, righteous, perfected in Christ. And, if I believe that, which I do for the first time in my life, I truly will live as one who is free from sin. I don't need to sin, I don't need to live as a sinner, and I do not need to punish myself if and when I do stumble.
And, secondly, I am a new creation in Christ. No, I am not depressed. No, I am not controlled by bulimia, or anorexia, or anxiety, or any mental illness. I am not bad. I am not worthless. These things were a part of me and could label me all they want before I accepted Christ. They had a right to. I belonged to the world, so the world could label me. But, I don't belong to the world anymore. I belong to Christ, and only He can label me. And He has! He has called me a new creation. I don't HAVE to live up to my old identities anymore! I don't HAVE to be bulimic. I don't HAVE to be anorexic. I don't HAVE to be a self-injurer. I don't HAVE to be fearful/anxious anymore. I don't HAVE to be depressed. Those aren't my identity.
Hallelujah! What a freedom! What a freedom! Hallelujah! What a God!
