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Recently, I was honored to write a series of posts for Revive Our Hearts, a women’s ministry dedicated to helping women thrive in Christ. Their mission is close to my own, and I’m so thankful I could write about body image and eating disorders for their audience. You can read the posts by clicking the links below.
(Have ideas for future articles? I’d love to hear from you. Shoot me an email or leave me a comment below!)
I’ve been thinking about this blog post for a long time. I haven’t written it because, well, there’s so much to say. I’ve written plenty on body image in the past, but not always from a Biblical standpoint. I’ve written about honoring our bodies and how to talk to a friend who has an eating disorder. I’ve encouraged us to quit dictating the morality of food and to forget about weight loss resolutions.
But talk about the Gospel and how that affects body image?
It’s a tougher topic entirely.
A writer at Christianity Today had this to say about the issue:
“Every time a woman turns on the television, strolls past a magazine aisle, watches the numbers rise on the scale, or spots that first gray hair, the battle wages on.
I cannot speak to the experience of men, but studies show that men fight this battle too. Images of six-pack abs, athletic builds, trendy clothes, and perfectly styled hair are all over the media…and if we're being honest, in many an evangelical pulpit.
For these two reasons—physical and spiritual—Christians need pastors to talk openly and thoughtfully about body image. The problem is, very few are doing this.
I can only speculate about why church leaders are largely silent about body image. Perhaps it's seen as a ‘women's issue,’ whereas the majority of pastors are men. Perhaps the topic is just too sensitive. Perhaps it speaks to a theology more concerned with the spirit than the body. Or perhaps it is an idol so entwined in Christian culture that we hardly even notice it.”
I definitely notice it, and if you’re reading this, I bet you do, too.
I thought moving from New York City to the Nashville area would mean I’d escaped the pressures of an image-focused and success-hungry society. That has been true to some extent. But the reality is the same across America: We are hyper-focused on our bodies. We are bombarded with images and headlines on a daily basis that tell us what to look like, what to eat, and how to work out.
Christians are not immune to this. I’ve heard beautiful, Godly women many times compare their diets and discuss the things they don’t like about their bodies. Men may not be talking about their body dissatisfaction in the same way, but body image is still a part of their lives.
So while I am not a pastor, I am a woman of the Word and a woman who loves the Lord. I’m also a woman who has experienced the deep pain and destruction of an eating disorder and poor body image—and the immense healing a relationship with Christ brings.
Throughout my years of struggle with food, exercise, and body image, the thing that has brought me the most comfort and encouragement is the Word of God. My identity is rooted in Him. When we accept Christ and live our lives for Him, that changes everything—including body image.
Paul writes in his first letter to Timothy,
“for the training of the body has a limited benefit, but godliness is beneficial in every way, since it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come. ”
This verse always stands out to me. It’s been helpful for me whenever I think “I just ate [insert “bad” food here] so I better [insert strenuous exercise] to burn those calories.” That sort of thinking is not the way God created us! I cannot stress this enough. That thinking comes straight from the devil. It tempts us and tricks us; it certainly doesn’t make us more like Christ.
Exercise is an amazing thing when done with a joyful heart and a true approach to health. But when exercise impedes your holiness, it’s time to take a step back. Reading the Word and praying has to come before time at the gym. Physical fitness and clean eating are not number-one priorities in God’s book, despite what culture may have us believe. We don’t need to work out six days a week, or sculpt six-pack abs, or force ourselves to run a 10K when we don’t even enjoy running. Those actions don’t make us healthy. God has created us with a beautiful mind, body, and spirit. Physical training of the body can only go so far when it comes to eternal life. I don’t know about you, but I don’t picture weight machines in heaven. Godliness, on the other hand, is with us for forever.
How much time do we think Jesus spent meal prepping, pondering his next workout, or deciding what He was going to wear? If I had to guess, I’d say approximately zero percent of His time was spent on this. He knew His Father would provide. He was concerned with His ministry and fulfilling the Father’s will. He wasn’t stressing about such relatively insignificant things as weight and clothing.
We know through through the book of Matthew that Jesus said,
“This is why I tell you: Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Isn’t life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the sky: They don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they? Can any of you add a single cubit to his height by worrying?... For the idolaters eagerly seek all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you. Therefore don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6: 25-27, 32-34)
I love this picture Jesus gives us so much. Life is more than food and the body more than clothing. And God provides what we need.
Over and over in the Bible, we see God using the small and the weak. He picks the most unexpected people and utilizes them to advance His kingdom. He’s not looking for the people who look good and seem successful by societal standards. He’s looking for the people who love Him with all their heart.
Think of David, who becomes King of Israel and whose line leads to Jesus.
“But the LORD said to Samuel, ‘Do not look at his appearance or his stature, because I have rejected him. Man does not see what the LORD sees, for man sees what is visible, but the LORD sees the heart.’”
One of David’s seven older brothers would have been the logical choice for King. Yet the Lord chose David, the youngest and smallest, who was out tending to sheep at the time. David, the one who no one took a second look at.
We don’t have to look a certain way for God to see us or use us. What God cares about more than anything is our hearts. When I find myself tempted to restrict my food intake or believe the lie that I am weak because I don’t adhere to a regular exercise routine, I try to remind myself of this verse. What is my heart motivation behind eating healthy and exercising? What drives me to do these things—godliness or something else like public perception, approval, physical beauty?
Don’t you yourselves know that you are God’s sanctuary and that the Spirit of God lives in you? (1 Corinthians 3:16)
I pray I honor the Spirit within me by treating my body with love, kindness, and respect. I know that when I stand before God on judgment day, He won’t ask me about my dress size or how fast I can run a mile.
From the very first book of the Bible, we see that:
“God created mankind in His own image; in the image of God He created them, male and female He created them.” (Genesis 1:27)
God created us in His image.
The Creator of the universe, the almighty, all-knowing, and all-powerful Father, is perfect. He created us to reflect His image. That means He created us perfectly, too.
He created us in a remarkable and wonderful way. He knit us together in our mother’s womb before we were born. Psalm 139 reminds us of how much the Father cares for us in the way He created us. Our bodies, our minds, our personalities are all from God. They are not an accident. I believe God designed us exactly as we are—what we view as flaws are precious in His eyes. That extra skin around the waist of your jeans, those strong and muscular calves, that thick and curly hair, those smile lines around your mouth and eyes—all are beautiful in His eyes.
If God sees us as precious and beautiful, and we care about His opinion more than anyone else’s, then why wouldn’t we see ourselves as precious and beautiful, too?
If you want to talk more about Jesus Christ and faith and what-the-heck-is-all-this-stuff, shoot me a message. I love meeting new people, whether virtually or in person, and gabbing about life.
And if you'd like to know more of my story, you can read my testimony here.
Truly, He makes beautiful things.
A version of this post originally appeared on Verilymag.com.
Juice cleanses. Detox diets. Meatless Mondays. All these food trends seem to be ushering in not only pithy magazine cover lines about carbs and abs but also an age when food consciousness has become the focal point of many of our lives. "Clean eating" has become an industry all its own. We cling to paleo and gluten-free lifestyles almost like religions.
If that meant we were all adapting healthier, happier lifestyles, maybe these eating fads would be great. And maybe for some people it is a helpful way to eat healthfully. But for many others, and particularly for young women, good health isn't the result. In fact, 50 percent of teenage girls use unhealthy weight control measures, such as skipping meals, fasting, vomiting, and taking laxatives. And on into young adulthood, 25 percent of college women engage in bingeing and purging, and 91 percent of women surveyed on college campuses try to control their weight through dieting. For many women, an acute food focus becomes downright dangerous.
I should know. It happened to me.
I've written about this before, but I really don't think eating disorders and our obsession with food can be talked about enough. For me, the desire to eat healthier was the beginning of what led me to develop a life-threatening eating disorder. As a high school varsity tennis player, I ate whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I was strong and healthy. I was able to clearly listen to my body’s hunger and fullness signals. I ate everything from broccoli to burgers, and my body knew exactly what I needed. I was what you would call an intuitive eater. Taking care of myself was simple.
But things got complicated. Or I should say, I overcomplicated them.
By the end of my senior year of high school, I was no longer playing tennis for three hours a day. I was busy finishing my studies, working part-time, and preparing for college. My friends started talking about the dreaded “Freshman 15” weight gain that was sure to hit all of us come fall, and it seemed like every girl around me was dieting in order to look fabulous in her prom dress that spring.
I decided to drink more water and to cut out the two or three Chips Ahoy chocolate chip cookies from my lunch every day. I figured I wasn’t an athlete anymore and now I needed to watch what I ate.
As an aspiring magazine journalist, I was very tuned in to the media, often reading headlines and articles about health and wellness. Twelve hundred calories a day to get a bikini body? No dairy or gluten to ensure flat abs? Sixty minutes of cardio a day to stay in shape? I soaked up the information like a sponge, absorbing diet tips, “healthy eating” strategies, and fitness advice.
All my life, I was praised for my body. Genetically tall and thin, I was often told I should be a model and affirmed for the way I looked. “You’re so skinny! I wish I looked like you," people would say. “What’s your secret?”
I had developed a sense of pride in my appearance. I had also developed a deep fear of losing it. The fears grew stronger and then the voice in my head changed from me wanting to be “healthy,” to me wanting approval, to me wanting control.
I was incredibly stressed about starting college at a school where I knew no one and where I would be enrolled in a rigorous program. I was scared I wouldn’t measure up. My long-term friendships were changing—we were drifting apart as the prospect of college loomed closer and closer. I had recently broken things off with a guy I liked, and I was feeling extra-lonely as a result. My life was going through a natural transition. But for me, an 18-year-old perfectionist not used to change or failure, life felt out of control. Nothing felt normal.
But food? Food I could control. If I could manage my food intake, then I could feel better, I thought.
It was the perfect storm of factors: a desire to eat healthy, fear of failure, stress about my body, longing for affirmation, isolation from my friends, and a great memory for calories/nutritional information/diet tips. Before I knew it, “healthy eating” became restriction and then full-blown anorexia nervosa.
The eating disorder took root and grew during that summer. Calorie counting became my way of life. My thoughts were consumed by food. I pulled away from my friends so that they wouldn't really know what was going on. My parents took me to see my pediatrician who had known me since I was a toddler. He said that while I had lost weight, it was perfectly normal to do so under stress and that they shouldn't worry. Later my parents drove me to an eating disorder treatment center. The psychiatrist there wanted to admit me immediately. I continued to deny having a problem. And my restricting rapidly worsened.
I still went off to college―but three weeks into my first semester, I had to withdraw for medical reasons. I was no longer stable enough to stay in school. Anorexia was destroying my life, and if I didn’t do something serious (and soon), I was going to die. Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. And 5 to 20 percent of those who suffer from anorexia will die. That's upward of one in five.
Thank God this is not where my story ends. Let me be clear: I did not save myself. I could not have escaped this devastating downward spiral of sin and destruction on my own. I was saved by The Lord, whose hand of protection was on me through it all. He saved me physically and spiritually. I got help from doctors and psychologists, and slowly but surely, I regained my health and my strength. My family carried me through it all, and I was given a second chance at life. I went back to school, graduated on time, and took a full-time job within a few months after graduation.
Today, seven years later, I am fully in recovery. I am happy and healthy. I meet with a counselor and nutritionist on a regular basis. I have an amazing community around me that watches out for me and that I can talk to when things get hard. Because, I have to be honest, sometimes life does get hard.
I think of anorexia (or any eating disorder) like alcoholism. Both are diseases; both stem from nature and nurture. Genetics, upbringing, and choices. Alcoholics usually call themselves alcoholics for the rest of their lives, even when they have not touched a drink in ten years. Similarly, I will always say I am “in recovery” from my eating disorder, even though my life looks drastically different than it used to. I am grateful for every single day, and I live life to the fullest.
I am also now highly aware of the world of “healthy eating,” diet, and fitness. We are tempted every day by magazines and websites promising happiness if we can just fix ourselves. If we can eat clean, if we can do more strength training, if we can work a bit harder to get those flat abs/strong arms/skinny waist/perky butt, we can achieve fulfillment. We can be happy.
Except those things will never fulfill us. Food, control, affirmation from others―those things will never fulfill us because only Christ can. It’s taken me years and plenty of struggle to realize that.
Everyone’s body, everyone’s health, is completely individual. What might be healthy for one person is totally different for someone else. I know that, for me, I could not survive on 1,500 calories a day like an unnamed women’s wellness magazine prescribes as necessary for weight maintenance and optimal health. If I did that with 60 minutes of cardio exercise a day, I would not be healthy. I would be sick and run down. And, for me, desserts and other sweet treats are a necessary part of my life. They equal food freedom! I’d like lots of freedom, please.
As my friend, fellow blogger, and dietician and nurse Robyn says so wisely:
“I am not anyone else except ME. Which means the person sitting next to me has different nutritional needs than I do, so comparing myself to them is pointless—the only person I need to focus on with food and exercise is myself.
Health is about trends and consistency—just like one day of ‘dieting’ and exercise doesn’t cause a person to lose weight, eating out of routine for a short time and enjoying foods that allow you to fully experience life and nourish your soul will not make you gain weight. Health is all about the big picture, not a snapshot.
[Food] is meant for nourishment and to be enjoyed and it has nothing to do with how self-disciplined you are, or how much willpower you have, and it certainly has nothing to do with your identity and worth.”
Amen, sister.
Food is for health, for pleasure, for experience—and all of those things together.
Think of how food shows up in the Bible: It brings people together. God uses it to bless us and reveal Himself to us. God gives us the gift of food to experience in community. We break bread and drink wine. Food is a gift, a way we can connect with one another.
Food is not meant to be overly complicated. My nutritionist often reminds me: Your body is the best indicator of what you need and when you need it. If you’re hungry and your stomach is growling, it’s because your body needs food―regardless of whether you ate two slices of pizza an hour ago or just drank a green juice. The latest diet trends are always changing, but your body is with you for the long haul. Listen to it.
Hyper-analyzing and focusing on food―or anything for that matter―turns it into an idol. It becomes the thing we glorify. It replaces God in our hearts, and ultimately, destroys our lives.
If we’re obsessed with eating perfectly, eating better than the person next to us, or looking good, we are the ones who end up losing. Being so concerned with what’s “healthy” and what’s not means we miss out on the simple joy of food. We miss out on the amazing gift our bodies are. We miss out on the whole life God has given us. He wants us to enjoy these things to glorify Him!
So eat the kale. Eat the cupcake. Listen to your body, not your fears. Let Jesus ―not food―reign in your heart. And enjoy the full life He has set out for you.
If you want to talk more about Jesus Christ and faith and what-the-heck-is-all-this-stuff, shoot me a message. I love meeting new people, whether virtually or in person, and gabbing about life.
And if you'd like to know more of my story, you can read my testimony here.
Truly, He makes beautiful things.