giving up the fight | the war on eating disorders

This post was written as a guest contribution to a dear friend of The House of Hatton. It is a reflection on my own journey and a prayer for all of those living in the shadows of an eating disorder. May you find hope in His truth and release in His grace. #NEDAwareness

I’ve sat down to write out these words several times now – each moment feeling more difficult than the one before. I tried to pinpoint the hold up on my heart, and this morning – of course while having a food-centered moment over my coconut flour pancakes – it dawned on me. How many people really know the details of my journey? How many times was I told, “You don’t have a problem,” “It’s really not that bad,” or “It’s just a phase?” While I’m transparent with almost every part of my life, the depths of my heart hold tight to the anguish surrounding my body. The battle for those corners of my spirit raged on, during the so called “best years of my life,” until I finally gave up the war and surrendered to the only One big enough to win it for me.

I feel like a lot of folks who journey an interesting road qualify their story with the phrase “I grew up in a stable and loving home,” as though an ideal setting precludes us from challenge. Well, news flash…the enemy has no favorites. Every heart has equal accessibility to trial. The minute I turned inward for control, my heart was primed for a takeover.

Between the ages of 15 and 29, my relationship with food was tumultuous at best. As soon as I thought I’d reached a healthy balance, I would find myself staring back into the face of the enemy I’d spent so much energy willing myself away from.  I would mark events in my life (college graduation, family events, our wedding, our first house) by “skinny time” or “fat time.” The memories illustrated in the photo would fade behind the noisy thoughts in my head criticizing every square inch of my body. Focused solely on myself, the shame attached to my pride only compounded the heartache.

My journey is full of marked moments of desperation. Between bottles of pills used to “balance” my food intake during college and extreme workouts that landed me in back surgery by age 23, I did everything to my body in pursuit of perfection. The breakdown? I allowed nothing for my body.

Let me pause here for a moment and ask you a question: Why should we care so much about this subject? Personally, why does physical health matter so intensely to me? One word answer for both questions: freedom. I longed for the emotional, physical, and spiritual space to love others, give radically, and live freely. My yo-yo years with nutritional and physical health have taken up so much space, in my head and heart. For a while, it was centered on dropping pounds and losing inches. Ultimately, as my heart began to heal, it was about finding consistency in one area of my life to build the foundation for growth and impact in all parts of my life.  

When we counsel others through eating disorders, we often hear “this will always be a part of your journey.” Or my other favorite, “this will always be your fight.” Living within that supposed truth kept me in bondage to this enemy for nearly half of my life. All I could find was temporary relief clouded by the harsh reality that this nemesis would show its face again. My story – the one that began with “this will always be your fight” – became my truth. It was my life banner, until my Creator intervened on my behalf to repaint that banner with His heart for me. In His grace, He rewrote my story. He gave me a new heartsong.

Here are the two truths of eating disorders: They are not preventable. They are curable. We are a community within a fallen world – crippled by sin and seemingly overpowered by societal norms. We cannot control what others around us see and hear. However, we can choose who we are for our community. We can be a soft landing for a hurting soul. We can speak in transparency and love. We can call the enemy for who he is and what he is – naming the lie and claiming the truth. And more than all of those combined, we can call on a Risen Savior. Christ needs not to fight the battle for us, because by His life, death, and resurrection…the war is already won.

In His victory is our freedom.

50 Shades of Heartbreak

I once heard it said that our checkbook and calendar highlight our priorities. What do we glorify as a society? What are we prioritizing today?

I've engaged in numerous discussions the last several months around the roles of men and women in a relationship. I've had some hard conversations about our human desire to fill in the gaps of our marriage with things of this world. I've listened to the heartbreak that comes from our own brokenness. I've seen the power that develops from vulnerability and truth. And I am thankful to be a part of the community of women committed to the pursuit of grace. Because we come from diverse backgrounds and unique teachings, these conversations encourage growth in my personal life and refinement in my marriage. The longer I press on for truth, the more I uncover God's intent for relationships and witness Him mend what is torn and tattered by our human nature.

Today...today, human nature is making a bold proclamation. And my heart aches at the sound.

I'll qualify before I start rambling.

I haven't read the book.
I haven't seen the movie.
I don't plan on either....

Despite the above, I have a pretty decent idea of what's held within the pages of 50 Shades of Grey. A woman who longs to be loved. A man who makes demands in order to maintain that love. And a relationship fraught with brokenness. Sure, it might look alluring on the outside, but is there fulfillment and goodness and unconditional love within? From what I can tell, the film/book illustrate a lot of our humanness. We are relational beings who pursue acceptance, community, stability, consistency, and true unconditional love. But at what cost?

So now, let's talk facts:
1 in 5 women will be raped in their lifetime.
1 in 4 women will be victims of domestic violence.
Half of all marriages end in divorce.
The number one cause of divorce: lack of communication.

Sure, we can all debate what constitutes what within a relationship.  I am of the opinion that, whether or not a person is in a relationship, if he or she says "no," that's enough. Anything to the contrary is a violation of dignity and safety.  Now suppose that individual so desperately longs for love that communication is silent. What then? The lack of openness to share anything indicates a new level of control and abuse exemplified by an individual's inability to speak freely without consequence.

An LA Times op-ed highlights the already growing trend of "acceptance" for poorly written prose and highly questionable film making. (Let's be honest, here. 10 years ago, this book and movie would have been relegated to one source...not mainstream media). Not so surprising, the lead actors didn't even enjoy the work. During their press tour, Jamie Dornan (Christian,) said "I had to do stuff to her that I'd never choose to do to a woman." If the actors are requesting their families avoid the movie, is it worth the rest of society sitting down to see it?

Sure, you can discount everything I've said because a) I haven't read the book and b) these are all personal opinions. And yet, I think it's worth discussing.

I sign off with this: once something is seen, it is etched in our minds and cannot be unseen. If your marriage is hurting, if your heart is aching, if you're searching for something...a spark, a newness, anything...you will not find it in Hollywood. You will sit down hopeful. You will walk out empty.

Find wholeness in grace. Find healing in promise. Find fulfillment in the Water. Be in the reality of your life - it can be beautiful.

progress over perfection.

My heart is fluttering as I type - so forgive any typos not automatically caught by my trusty spell check. I talk about being vulnerable. I even have the majority of folks pretty sure I open up about every detail of my life. However, there are a few things I hold pretty close to the vest.

In May of last year, I opened up got real about my journey with food and fitness. I shared where I was, where I'd been, where I fell short, and where I found peace. Exploring my relationship with nutrition and fitness - really analyzing the roller coaster ride, if I'm being truthful - revealed some hard truths about my heart. At the root of the madness was my human desire for ultimate perfection...a perfection centered on performance - never for myself, but for others.

As relational beings, we strive for connection, affirmation, inclusion, acceptance...you name it, we want it (at least I do).  As I started to write down my daily activities and nutrition, alongside what happened for me in that day, I noticed that my own roller coaster moved with my choices. If I chose perseverance, wholeness, love, etc. it showed up in my day. If I allowed my "happenings" to choose me, it definitely showed up in my day....and not in a healthy way.

I searched for the silver bullet fix to the back and forth and my tendency to quell emotions with food. Fad diets. Extreme measures. Disappointment. Failure. Exhaustion. Get up and try something new. Excuses. Inconsistencies. Disappointment. Failure. Exhaustion. You get the cycle. Statistics say you've probably lived pieces of the cycle yourself. So, when does the roller coaster stop? And how? Digging for the answer brought me to a breaking point shortly after I wrote about my past history with nutrition (or lack thereof). The roller coaster doesn't stop. We're surrounded by trends. We're inundated with standards we didn't choose for ourselves. And slowly but surely, we lose even footing and fall prey to the pursuit of perfection, all the while leaving our progress in the dust.

In the Summer of last year, I had another night of full pizza...and all I sensed was failure. I didn't know if I had gained weight or lost it (we don't keep scales in the house), but I didn't care. I was unhappy. I was tired. I was fragmented. I couldn't find a steady place to center my gaze and rest my heart long enough to find a fresh start. I could sense God calling me to a big dose of newness, but in the midst of my own mire I just couldn't find the path towards it...if that makes sense. Praise the Lord for His precious attention to detail. He works that way, because He created us that way. He knows what it takes to get our attention and He knows how to shift the gravitational pull on our hearts, because He MADE our hearts. He used some really incredible individuals who reached out when I needed it most, and walked with me in the process of renewal. I found a heaping dose of grace and an authentic community of women who recognize that while the roller coaster continues, we have the option to shred our tickets and walk the beach instead.

Before I sign off from you, my friend, let me say one thing: health is not about a bikini ready body. I'm not rocking a six-pack. I'm not modeling for Victoria's Secret. (and I don't want to). However, my outsides are starting to match my insides. I needed to wrestle down my pride, ego, and self-centered tendencies in nutrition and ask for some blank space to start over.  For me, that looks like a version of myself I may not see in the mirror (my mind still often twists that reflection). I've been given a new vision for myself: whole. strong. fierce. passionate. and made on purpose.

Why do I care so much about this journey? Why does physical health matter so intensely to me? One word: freedom. I longed for the emotional, physical, and spiritual space to love others, give radically, and live freely. My yo-yo years with nutritional and physical health have taken up so much space, in my head and heart. For me, it was never about dropping pounds and losing inches. It was about finding consistency in one area of my life to build the foundation for growth and impact in all parts of my life. Our nutritional choices are a reflection of our heart. Does that mean I steer clear of pizza because my heart is "oh so pure?" Absolutely not. I practice mindfulness. And that shows up, sometimes, as a total blast evening with friends at a football game that ends with pizza. 100%. The difference between that night today and that night a year ago: I consciously chose. And that shows up as two pieces instead of six (true story). Additionally, when I falter and find myself knee deep in chocolate after receiving some tough news (also a true story), I have accountability. I have a mega dose of love. I walk in some pretty fantastic grace. And I wake up the next morning, with a new day ahead.

Today, I encourage you to stop. Rest. And release.  We don't need a new year for a new slate. We have today. And FYI - it's a NEW day. Train your heart for the pursuit of daily momentum, not ultimate success. Train your eyes for progress. You are not alone. Walking with you......

You don't have to try.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXoZLPSw8U8

one word.

Well hello, 2015. And hello world. Sigh. It's great to be with you again.

I used to greet the day with a pretty radical level of enthusiasm, especially as a kid. Even into my teenage years, my mom was always surprised by my ability to bound out of bed. However, as I've grown older, I've managed to find more reasons to stay in the sheets.

Adulthood. It's rough sometimes. It's got bills. It's got tough choices. It's got a slower metabolism, so I can't even eat my emotions without feeling the impact (more on that journey next week). Lately, it's seemed fraught with details that clutter the joy and newness I once saw in each day. Lately...it feels heavy.

Last week, I shared bits and pieces of my One Word journey, something I began in place of “resolutions” at the end of 2012. Each word that’s come to the surface has been an anchor of sorts. Without knowing what the year ahead might hold, 2013 was truly a season to surrender the portrait I had for my life. In contrast, 2014 became the opportunity to believe in what could be possible (far beyond my wildest dreams!) Given the experience of the previous two years, I have looked forward to 2015’s word with great anticipation.

As I began this year’s discovery process, I took time to really digest the year prior and write out my hopes for the year ahead. I jotted down all the heavy pieces weighing down my heart and scribbled dreams…prayers…passions. I sat with these for a few days, and I waited. One night, while pondering some pretty lofty goals, I dozed off and began dreaming about the future I’d drawn. Suddenly, I found myself alert and wide awake with one word in my mind: freedom. As I tried to force myself back into sleep, I considered the root of that word and reviewed the goals I held tightly to for 2015. In that journey, I recognized that freedom was not my one word for 2015. Instead, it was what I would need in order to fulfill my big. bold. goals. Perhaps it would help if I shared a few of those!

Personal:

• We host neighbors, church groups, and anyone else in need of home love once a week.
• I coach one individual per month in health, career, and personal goals.

Career:

• I launch a goal-geared clothing line by Christmas.
• I develop and present a seminar at UNC Chapel Hill entitled “Putting the Heart Back into Business.”

Health:

• I serve as a one-on-one accountability partner for 20 women in their pursuit of a healthy lifestyle.
• Thomas and I practice radical acts of generosity with all available resources…innumerably.

When I think through “the list,” I’m initially overwhelmed. I’m not sure what it looks like (even to start it). I’m hesitant to commit to any one thing out of fear of doing all things in mediocrity. I’m sure of dropping something along the way. And I start to see endless to do lists and a scattered life. Then I remember, “freedom.”

Freedom to love well. Freedom to give without reservation. Freedom to create. So, how would I navigate an adventurous and goal-filled 2015 that rested in freedom? What was the access point to freedom?

Sigh. Even as I see it written, my heart rate slows. My breath deepens. My soul quiets.

simplicity.

Defined as “freedom from complexity, intricacy, or division into parts, absence of luxury, pretentiousness, ornament, etc. 

“Freedom from complexity….” There is my access point, and there begins my action plan – release the complexities. For me, complexity takes on a number of forms. Sometimes it’s as small as a perfectly spotless house before someone comes over. Often, it’s just. more. stuff. I think I need to accomplish one more thing. And most frequently, it’s a fully packed calendar with no room for spontaneity (because I think it’s supposed to look that way). As I develop an action plan to progress in these goals, I center my choices (and my time) on simplicity: grace over perfection, love over obligation, mind over things, peace over noise, and creativity over to-dos

Can’t wait to see how simplicity shows up in 2015. I will share the experience along the way (#livesimplysparked)!

Live simply,

Parker

a reminder from C.S. Lewis

In the last few months, it feels as though the somewhat typical headlines of world issues have radically expanded into unthinkable evil, terrifying disease, and global turmoil. I'm left wondering...from where does this heartache come and what could any one person do to combat it?

This morning, I found a sweet reminder. In his book, The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis writes:




The greatest evil is not now done in those sordid “dens of crime” that Dickens loved to paint. It is not done even in concentration camps and labour camps. In those we see its final result. But it is conceived and ordered (moved, seconded, carried, and minuted) in clean, carpeted, warmed, and well-lighted offices, by quiet men with white collars and cut fingernails and smooth-shaven cheeks who do not need to raise their voice.


Upon reading that excerpt, I was struck by the realization that questioning my own ability to make a difference actually hinders any action and results in an apathetic and stalwart attitude - that of a quiet individual in a well-lighted office who once had grand intentions to save the world but is far more comfortable in her uninterrupted space. In that solitude, I can force myself to disconnect from the call on my heart - to be here now, to love without fear, and to serve without condition.

We have been summoned into every corner. The clean and shiny corners with brand new MacBooks and bottomless free coffee. The dark corners filled with cobwebs and broken pencils, surrounded by lingering remnants of a once vibrant school. Wherever we are, we're there on purpose - to fulfill His call to love His people...all of His people.

reflection.

Before any birthday - regardless of the impending age - I get super reflective. I'm a smidge moody (ok, more than a smidge). The couch is my best friend. My journal gets a solid dose of script. And my heart wades through what's already there. After my birthday, I typically bound out of bed ready to take on the world. I've been given another day following an epic year. There's purpose in that! Charge on! (This is all said mildly obnoxious and loud, mind you). However, leading up to the day, I feel defeated, worthless, and stagnant. In really digging in to that imbalance, I'm reminded of the typical thought pattern that leads up to 9.12.

• I should be better at this by now.
• I should look like this as I approach ___ (insert upcoming age category).
• I should have completely nailed down that routine that includes lengthy quiet times and prayer sessions, care taking of those around me, healthy meals three times a day, challenging workouts, and a budding career.
• I should have spent more time with ____ (insert the 30 people I'm sure I've let down on any given day).
• I should be super secure, financially, instead of obsessing week over week.

There is a common thread in that list...the ever weakening "should." That word is powerful, only in its ability to make us feel powerless.  It keeps me from celebrating progress, reflecting on achievement, and standing in gratitude for provision. The shoulds of my life could very well outweigh the gems that shine in the dust around my feet. However, as this birthday approaches, I'm dousing my feet with the renewing water of gratitude that is bursting from my heart so that I may walk boldly - and in balance - towards a new decade.

Today, my thoughts are centered on the most tremendous decade I could imagine.

• I met Vegas for the first time, thanks to my sister's creative plan to christen my 21st birthday with the most unforgettable act of generosity (and full out fun).
• I graduated from the most incredible University that introduced me to my best friends and injected me with some Texas pride.
• We went to France and danced. 
• I stood by those Baylor beauties on their wedding days...the most phenomenal honor.
• I left Texas (much to my dismay) and moved to North Carolina (much to God's provision).
• I met a boy. 
• I found my big girl panties and started working.
• I quit working and went back to school.
• That cute guy from the football game took me back to where we first met, and asked if I was up for a lifetime together.
• We bought a precious little townhouse in my favorite city on planet earth.
• We adopted a fur child.
• I went to a cookout with my sister and met this boy she really liked...and I totally approved.
• We moved to Canada. 
• I joined a really rad team of people that would take me on a near three year journey of adventure and learning.
• The boy from the cookout went to D.C. and asked my sister to change her last name.
• We moved to Charleston.
• I hopped on a bike and fell in love with the ride...then decided I wanted to teach that ride.
• My work bestie and I launched a goal coaching biz.
• I sang my sister down the aisle.
• I left that team of people to start building up businesses, the first one being our family business.
• We bought our first single family home.

A modge podge of memories.....

And that's the short list. Sure, there were some unexpected parts of the journey - some of which were too painful to recount. And yet, those valleys made the journey so much sweeter and His grace so much clearer. My twenties were, in a word, spectacular. As I look ahead to a new decade, I am clearing away the temptation for "a clean slate," because I would never trade a single moment - challenging or not - from this last year or ten years. Each moment was on purpose, and from them I take the lessons embedded from which I will grow and flourish. 

As Friday draws near, it's time to dive head first into my vision and goals for the next ten years. Pop back in Thursday, my friend. I'll need your accountability to make the next decade even more spectacular!

With love,

Parker

grace forgotten.

In recent months, I find myself addicted to the mountain top. I'm worn out, and I'm searching for a weekend retreat...a conference...an anything to reenergize my soul and sift through what is sitting on my heart. I find it once, and I go after it again when the road gets long. Hear me when I say that I find radical value in weekends away, so these words are not intended to diminish the impact and purpose of those times. My husband and I travel to a Weekend to Remember once a year and have committed to do so until the end of our lives on earth. (it. is. awesome). So yes - I love a solid conference to challenge our thinking, dig into difficult topics, and ignite a new level of commitment to a life well lived. What I am saying is that my tendency to reach out for a "weekend fix" is rooted in other matters of my heart and, I believe, symptomatic of a broken world.

I'm knee deep in life, because I don't live it any other way. For a few weeks, I go full out, 100 MPH, and then collapse into a willnotmoveforthreedays mode, which my sister refers to as "sleep camel." In recent months, my faith has taken a similar path. I live with full intensity, unbridled passion, and "all the right words" until my lack of authenticity catches up with me thereby sending me into full on introversion coupled with a hefty dose of guilt and shame. I can't articulate where I sense struggle, and in few places do I feel safe sharing my thoughts (though most know me as radically vulnerable...more often than not, that's a show too). While I thought my multiple-per-week Bible studies and consistent church going were the perfect antibiotic to their loitering tendencies, decade old skeletons have found their way back to my heart.

All of the above was brought to a head this week as the world launched into discussions around depression as a choice or a disease. Anyone who knows me well understands my fury towards those who pretend to comprehend the disease and my sadness for the broken hearted caught up in and pointed at in the dark abyss that is depression. So the questions I find myself asking this week: where is the Church within this battle for our hearts? When was grace forgotten?

In my lifetime, only three church bodies have opened up their doors to receiving and taking on what plagues the lives of its congregation. My first true introduction to radical acceptance through a grace centered life - within a church body - came from Redeemer Presbyterian in Waco, TX during my second week of college. In that body of believers, I found connection, relationship, and authenticity. There was no judgement, no legalism, no effort to achieve favor required...just wholeness, in that very moment, through the work of Christ. My parents' teaching primed my heart to receive that good news, and I am eternally grateful that He laid the path for me to find His grace and relish in it, deep in the heart of Texas. :)

Of my friends who do not attend church because they find no peace within its walls, I ask why. 99% of the time, the responses center on a past memory of a pastor or member of a congregation who ridiculed, shamed, or abandoned the individual. Immediately, he or she associated God's response with those of the people in the church. If we fail, He judges us. If we do wrong, He shames us. If we are honest, He leaves us.

In our humanness, we are broken. From our inability to fully grasp the Trinity, we project our human experiences on a Divine God, and we cannot see the Grace with which He disbands our shadows and paints new light. We condition ourselves with motivation to perform instead of inspiration to create. And we breakdown. We judge those who are hurting. We abandon those in need. We fail one another who ask for love. I do it. Everyday...intentionally, unintentionally. I'm human. I'm broken. I fail. Yet His banner of Grace is wider than my weakness. His mountaintop is sustained. It is not a fleeting emotion of belief but a rooted knowledge that He is there - unmoving, unshaken, and unwavering. He beckons His own, in whatever state we are...wherever we are...we are His.

True Redemption is found only in the sacrifice of our Creator, Who loves deeply enough to give His all, just so He can have you. Let us all remember our worth in Him, so that we can love one another in that same manner in which He loves us....in whatever condition we may be.