Aubrey’s Story #22: Bulimia and a Backward Glance

Before moving forward in my story, I wanted to begin with a summary, and I thought simply writing down, word for word, a journal entry of mine about a year before I was set free would be the perfect way to do this. It was a loose, singlet piece of paper stuffed randomly in my journaling notebook.

Journal Entry: Christmas 2010

Desperate. Frustrated. Discouraged. Deceived. I am ready to start a new journey. Can a fork in the road begin today in my life? How do I come out victorious? Have I a relationship with Christ? If so, why haven’t I claimed victory?! Why am I writing this four years later? My heart at the moment feels nothing. Mentally I want something else. Could I be a Christian and still have stuffed my fingers down my throat for four years? I have desired change, but have I fought?! I believe I have fought. So have I not fought in the power of His might? Have I tried to do it on my own strength? But maybe I never had Christ to begin with? To prove to myself I have Christ I need to be healed, right? Is that an unbiblical way to put it?

Will I die with puke streaming down my neck, plastered over my cheeks? (Might it happen this way? I don’t know. I have been too scared to read about the consequences that a lifetime of purging causes.) Die in sin…would I not go to heaven?! If this sin is left unconquered, is this proof I am not saved? Am I simply scared of going to hell? Is this my motivation to “turn a new leaf” in my life? But I want to desire heaven because Christ is there. But I know more often it is hell that drives me to desire change than it is Christ. Change my heart. But do I want a change of heart only to be saved from hell?

Do not leave me in my sin. Give me whatever I have not had before so I can come forth victorious. I ask this for your glory (because I know this is good, not because I desire Your glory) and for my good.

Aletheia calls from her crib and the unborn one moves about inside me. I leave this entry saddened and heavy. Pursue me, Jesus.

And He did. He pursued me. He pursued me in a place where I only dared hope Jesus would venture. He pursues us. He makes what we thought was beautiful appear for what it truly is…a pile of rotting flesh. He lifts our head and wipes our tears, so that we might see Him clearly. With disdain and horror we look at what we had been fondling, as Smeagol and Frodo did the ring. But we are still here, living in this world. We are not home yet…and so we continue to cry daily, “Pursue me, Jesus! Don’t let me go!” There is a place where sin will be no more; a place where we will finally hang up our weapons that have fought against the flesh. But we linger here a while longer…and as such, our cry continues, “Pursue me, Jesus!” “Don’t leave me to my fascination with things other than you!” “Keep me fighting, Jesus!” For Your glory and our good!

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