NINE

UNFINISHED BUSINESS

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I just love the changing of the seasons, don't you? Especially that magical time of year when spring turns the corner into summer and women everywhere prepare themselves for a very important event: finding out if the bathing suit still fits.

And even more fun is opening day at the pool—the day a gal finally gets to strut her stuff (stuff that hasn't seen the light of day in months) for all the neighbors to enjoy. Even though it's wonderful to feel all those eyes on me (not!), I usually like to stay put on my lounge chair reading in the sun. Of course my kids always want me to get in the pool, and I humor them here and there. But I pay the price. Shortly after I get out of the water, my body dries off just enough for my thighs to take on the qualities of double-sided tape, sticking together ever so securely. And swim shorts don't make it any better because they just rise above the stickiness and bunch up at the top of my legs. Lovely.

I'm sure you can tell that bathing suits aren't my favorite attire, but I have to say I owe quite a lot to one special swimsuit. A swimsuit I bought on a special weeklong getaway with Bill.

THE PLAN AND THE PLAN

Now before I tell you about the magical bathing suit of wonders, I need to give some background information. Bill and I had set out on this trip to South Carolina in order to attend a weeklong training seminar on helping people deal with wounded hearts and to sneak in some alone time. We were very excited about our plan to learn some helpful information, while at the same time getting some moments on the beach and several date nights.

Trainer had plans for our trip as well.

TRAINER: Do you think there's going to be time for you to get some prayer for yourself at this conference?

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: Of course. There will be lots of prayer time.

TRAINER: Good, because you definitely need it.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: What do you mean?

TRAINER: You are well aware of what I mean. You've got to get help with your fat problem. Someone needs to help you figure out why you can't lose weight.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: Oh, yeah.

TRAINER: It just doesn't make any sense to me that you can be getting all “healed up” (air quotes) in so many ways, yet stay so dang fat. There's got to be a deeply hidden problem with you. Something is very wrong. You definitely need prayer.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: You're right.

HIDDEN AGENDA

So a trip that started out with a focus on learning how to help others suddenly became all about me. It's kind of like being a perpetual single bridesmaid at a wedding: Even though you're celebrating a friend's blessing, all you can think about is catching that silly bouquet. Surely this will be your lucky day. Perhaps you might actually meet your Prince Charming.

I couldn't keep my developing agenda hidden for long. For much of our drive to the beach, Bill was informed of my plans for a profound personal breakthrough—the one I had been waiting for all my life. I just knew God was going to reveal the final key to my weight issues, and I would return home a woman with a new metabolism. I could already see myself strutting around in my new skinny jeans, the talk of the town. I was eager for the sessions to begin.

HOLDING MY BREATH

At the end of our first wonderful day of training, the time for personal prayer finally arrived. The men and women all broke off into smaller groups, each with its own leader. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to share my prayer request.

Once my group had found a quiet spot, we all sat in a circle and waited on our leader to start the prayers. A quick assessment of the group told me it would be wise for me to contain myself and allow someone else to go first. I didn't want to appear overly needy and turn everyone off right from the start. After all, I needed these people. I was desperate for their insight. A good first impression was essential.

After forcing myself to stay quiet through two other prayer requests (saying “Yes, Lord” at all the appropriate times so as not to appear preoccupied), I finally decided to speak up. I let it all out. In my best “emotionally healthy” voice, I told those women about all the healing I'd been experiencing—healing that had changed my life in every way but one. I still could not lose weight, and because of that I just didn't feel whole.

With as much empathy as they could offer (each woman in my group was thin), they circled around me and began to pray. The prayers were sweet, yet mighty. I held my breath waiting for the moment I'd been anticipating—the moment when my body would be miraculously zapped with a new genetic code (which I would be aware of due to the tingling sensation that would surely accompany this type of transformation).

The last prayer was spoken, and…nothing. I felt nothing. But, I told myself it might just take a few days, and lucky for me there were four days left before I had to leave. Surely they'd get their prayers right by then.

STILL NOTHING

The next three days were basically the same as the first, other than the growing feeling of frustration I sensed in my prayer partners. I've sure got to hand it to them; they truly gave it their best prayers, and listening to me drone on and on about my issue couldn't have been their idea of fun.

But nothing was changing. Nothing. Each night at dinner I still found myself desiring dessert (an urge that would surely disappear as a result of my new healing, don't you think?). I still ate every bite of food on my plate, and I still felt fat.

NOT MY IDEA OF FUN

Even though the days weren't turning out to be what I was hoping, Bill and I did get to spend some sweet time together. We walked on the beach and drove around town discussing God's goodness and the new things we were learning. Things weren't all bad. Especially for Bill.

Bill's favorite part of our trip was the inviting pool area our hotel offered. It was surrounded by a lazy river and had an adjacent hot tub (heaven on earth for him) all facing directly out on the ocean. It was pretty cool.

One night after donning his swimsuit and strutting his stuff (stuff that hadn't changed a bit since the day we were married), Bill asked me to come with him down to the hot tub—the last thing in the world I had planned on for the evening. All I really wanted to do was climb into my large sweat pants and under the covers. So, although it was hard to resist the puppy-dog eyes he was giving, I told him I was just too tired. With a pout he kissed my cheek and headed to water wonderland without me.

TRAINER AND THE HUMILIATION SUIT

The next night Bill tried again. Nearly begging this time, Bill asked me to come with him to the hot tub. Knowing that I was his best friend, and feeling guilt at the thought of Bill floating in pathetic isolation, I agreed.

Digging under everything else in my suitcase, I finally found it…my humiliation suit (bathing suit to others). I hated that stretchy black fabric with its mocking polka dots. Even so, I grabbed it and headed toward the bathroom. (Can you hear the polka dots laughing their heads off already?) I knew who would be waiting for me there. Trainer.

TRAINER: Well, hello. Don't tell me you're actually thinking of going down to the pool.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: I have to. Bill begged me.

TRAINER: For the life of me, I can't imagine why he'd want to be seen with you. I mean, he's got a perfect body and you…well, you don't.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: Thanks for the vote of confidence.

TRAINER: Well, go ahead. Put on the suit. Let's just get this horror show started.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: Fine. (Strips off clothes without looking in mirror.)

TRAINER: Oh yuck. Quick…get your suit on. I can't stand to look at you.

I struggled to get my bathing suit on as quickly as possible, which isn't easy when one must pull and yank while simultaneously gyrating her hips in hopes of instantly decreasing their size. Finally, with the last tug and snap of the shoulder straps and a quick wipe of my brow (this had been a workout), I stood and caught sight of myself in the mirror. Big mistake.

TRAINER: Okay, you're not seriously going to go out in public, are you? I mean, look at yourself. (Puts hand up to mouth to keep from busting out into a roar of laughter.)

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: I know. I see it.

TRAINER: Well, your stomach is at least covered, but look at the size of your flabby arms. How did they get that big?

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: I don't know. I'm sorry.

TRAINER: And look at all the dimples in your thighs. Talk about Swiss cheese. Seriously, Teasi, you can't go. You just can't. You're twice the size of Bill.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: You're right. I am just an embarrassment to him whether he'll admit it or not. I'm not going.

I got out of that suit as quickly as I could (doing the reverse gyration move required) and jumped into the safety of my loose-fitting pajama pants. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, the look on Bill s face couldn't hide his disappointment.

“Where's your bathing suit? I thought you were coming with me?”

“I'm sorry. I just can't. I'm too fat. Please just go without me.”

Though I know it hurt his feelings, Bill did what I asked. He went to the pool without me yet again. Once the door closed behind him, I went to the bed and cried.

THE DAMASCUS BALCONY

There is a scene in the Bible that is important to me because it's almost exactly what happened to me next.

On his way to persecute more Christians, our brother Saul (later given the name Paul) received a life-changing smack in the face from above. Take a look at the scene:

As he journeyed he came near Damascus, and suddenly a light shone around him from heaven. Then he fell to the ground, and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?” And he said, “Who are You, Lord?” Then the Lord said, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. It is hard for you to kick against the goads.” So he, trembling and astonished, said, “Lord, what do You want me to do?” Then the Lord said to him, “Arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.” (Acts 9:3–6)

After I'd had enough of my own crying, I went out onto the balcony to give God a piece of my mind.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: All right, I want answers. Why did You make me so fat? Why did You give me such a messed-up metabolism? Why did You make me so ugly? Why can't I lose weight? (Persecuting myself.)

FATHER GOD: (Silence.)

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: I drove nearly ten hours to get some answers—to get to the root of this issue. Why won't You help me?

FATHER GOD: (Silence.)

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: Daddy, please. I need You to talk to me. I need to know why. Why? Why?

FATHER GOD: (Silence.)

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: (Silence.)

FATHER GOD: Teasi, Teasi…why are you persecuting Me?

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: What do you mean? I'm not persecuting You.

I sat there stunned for a moment, wondering how God could say such a thing to me. After all, I had just traveled so far in order to learn how to help people know Him better. I loved God with all of my heart—in fact I had no greater desire than to know Him more.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: What do you mean? I love You.

FATHER GOD: You always call me a liar.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: No, I do not. I totally believe in Your Word.

FATHER GOD: You don't believe what I say about you.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: But that has nothing to do with my feelings toward You.

FATHER GOD: When you look into the mirror, you have a choice. You can choose whose opinion you are going to accept as truth. There are only two options: My opinion of you, and my enemy, Satan's, opinion.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: What about mine? Aren't I entitled to one of my own?

FATHER GOD: Your opinion will line up with one of the two. There are no other options. All of your life you have believed My enemy. You have been living your life as if what he says about you is truth. This makes My opinion the one you choose not to accept; thus, you have been calling Me a liar.

HYPOCRITICAL OMISSION

Those words acted like that heavenly light that shined down on Saul on that road to Damascus—the one that struck him blind. I wasn't blinded, but I was struck dumb; nothing would come out of my mouth. All I could do was contemplate what had been said to me. Had I been calling God a liar all of my life? Have you?

Isn't it crazy how we pick and choose? It really is nothing less than hypocritical that we find it easy to believe God created the earth, and that Noah was saved on the ark, and that little David killed the giant with a stone, and that Christ rose from the dead. Yet we often refuse to believe that we are fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps. 139:14).

WHAT DADDY SEES

From the very beginning, God has loved His girls. Think about the days of Creation. Everything God made kind of outdid the thing He'd created the day before. He started with night and day, then went on to land and sea, then living things in those places, then fruit trees, and stars, and then man. But His crowning achievement, His final creation was Eve, our great-grandmother (times several generations, of course). A woman was the finishing touch, and after God made her, He said she was good.

And think of this: God created us to bring forth life. What a purpose! He created us to be nurturers and nourishers of His family. He made us softer than men, more tender and, most often, more emotionally in tune than men. He created us to be a reflection of a large part of His heart, and He adores us. But the devil doesn't.

THE JEALOUS ONE

Satan hates us because he is jealous. You see, he started out his existence beautiful; in fact he was named “son of the morning.” Listen to this:

How you are fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How you are cut down to the ground, you who weakened the nations! For you have said in your heart: “I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God; I will also sit on the mount of the congregation on the farthest sides of the north; I will ascend above the heights of the clouds, I will be like the most High.” (Isaiah 14:12–14)

The devil still wants to outshine us all, and he'll stop at nothing to blind us from our true beauty—from the way God sees His girls.

In her book Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman's Soul, Stasi Eldredge says, “Satan fell because of his beauty. Now his heart for revenge is to assault beauty. He destroys it in the natural world wherever he can. Strip mines, oil spills, fires, Chernobyl. He wreaks destruction on the glory of God in the earth like a psychopath committed to destroying works of art. But most especially, he hates Eve. Because she is captivating, uniquely glorious, and he cannot be. She is the incarnation of the Beauty of God.”15

Satan doesn't fight fair. He hits us below the belt, wherever it will hurt us the most. He'll stop at nothing to rob us of our true position as God's beauties.

CHOOSING MY TEAM

Thought after thought about what I'd been doing to God all these years took center stage in my mind, and as they did, a righteous sorrow grew in me. How could I have been so cruel to the Lover of my very soul? How could I wear the other team's colors at every game?

I made a decision right then on that balcony that I would do it no more. I knew that I would need the Holy Spirit's power to back up that decision, but I was determined. Things were going to change. I really didn't have a choice. If I was going to call myself a believer, I would have to believe it all—every word that came out of God's mouth. Either that or turn away from it all. I would die before I would do that.

I looked out over the ocean waves shining in the moonlight and turned my heart toward God. Just as Saul had asked on that road to Damascus, I asked the Father, “What would You have me do?” And this is what He said: “Arise, go look into the mirror, and you shall be told what you shall do.”

I rose to face my enemy head on.

GOD vs. TRAINER: THE SHOWDOWN

Trainer was there waiting for me, arms crossed over her chest and eyes filled with contempt. I looked right into her eyes, something I had never done before, and stood squarely in front of her. Immediately, she laid into me.

TRAINER: How dare you look at me like that? Turn those pitiful eyes away from me.

Before I could say a word, someone else answered for me.

FATHER GOD: I love her blue eyes. They are beautiful to me. I gave them to her so she can behold My wonders.

TRAINER: Too bad they're surrounded by that blotchy face.

FATHER GOD: I love that face. It shines with the reflection of My love when she lets it.

TRAINER: And what about those fat arms? Do you love those?

FATHER GOD: Yes, I gave her those so she could hold My babies and hug My hurting children.

TRAINER: What about that flabby stomach? It's sickening.

FATHER GOD: I love it, for it is there that she carried three of My children, her body being stretched to do so. The marks and extra weight she carries are beautiful to Me.

TRAINER: Well, did you notice the cottage cheese legs she's got?

FATHER GOD: Yes, and I adore those dimples. They are so cute to Me, just as they were when she was a toddler. I gave her those legs so she could carry My love anywhere she wants.

TRAINER: And her wide, wide hips?

FATHER GOD: I love them. Every last inch of her is lovely to Me.

TRAINER: Well, what about—

FATHER GOD: (Holding up his hand and speaking firmly.) You are to speak no more. From this moment on, I silence you.

And silence filled the room for several moments after that before God turned with a few more words for me.

FATHER GOD: From the moment you arise in the morning—every morning—I smile ear to ear, for My sweet girl has awakened to face another day. Please love yourself for Me. You are My glory—My masterpiece—and I love you just as you are.

FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN: I will, Father. I am so sorry I never have.

As I stood facing that mirror, looking straight into the reflection of my own eyes with fresh vision, I felt the Father's embrace in an almost tangible way. And just before the hug ended, I heard Him whisper one last thing into my soul.

FATHER GOD: From this moment on you will have a new name. You are never to call yourself a fat Christian woman again. From here on out you are ever and only…My Beloved.

BELOVED: (Looking up into His eyes of pure love.) And You are mine.

MIRACLE SUIT

Just as He had with Saul, God sent me in a new direction with a new name. Supernaturally, divinely, miraculously…the profound personal healing I had set out to get had come. It didn't come the way I thought it would. It was far better.

The day after my encounter on the balcony was the last day of our trip. As we drove back to the hotel from our final training session, I had Bill pull the car over at one of those cute beach shops so I could buy some souvenirs for the kids. But there was something else I purchased: a special tribute to the goodness of God. I bought myself a new bathing suit.

That night Bill went down to the hot tub again…only this time, he went with me.

BELOVED'S PRAYER

Father God,

I am so sorry for all the years I called You a liar. I know now that I was hurting You greatly, and I ask You to forgive me for that. You have loved me so tenderly, so completely, and I choose to believe You.

I turn away from believing the lies of the enemy—from believing that what You have created is a mistake. I turn from believing that what You made is malformed or ugly. I turn from believing my value is determined by anything other than what You say.

I am your beloved daughter. An adored princess. Help me, Father, to remember that always. Please come quickly if I ever forget that.

From this moment on I refuse to put the world's opinions above Yours, thinking that beauty is what it deems. You say I am beautiful, and that is my truth.

In Jesus' name,

Amen

WHAT ABOUT YOU? BEHOLD THE BEAUTY

  1. In chapter 1, we started the process of bringing to light our negative self-talk. It is time to deal with those thoughts once and for all. Let's get Trainer in on this. What is something she likes to nag you about? Write it.

    TRAINER: ________________________________________________________
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  2. Take some time to pray about what Trainer says to you. What does God have to say about all of this? What do you believe He would say to Trainer about this issue?

    GOD (TO TRAINER): _______________________________________________
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  3. What would God say to you about what He sees when He looks at you?

    GOD (TO YOU): ____________________________________________________
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  4. What do you want to say to God about all of this? Do you want to see it His way, or do you want to continue to believe Trainer?

    YOU: ____________________________________________________________
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  5. Part of ending my relationship with Trainer was getting rid of my old name (Fat Christian Woman) and accepting the new name God had for me, “Beloved.” What do you think your old name was? What is your new name?

    a. Old name: _____________________________________________________

    b. New name:  ____________________________________________________

PEP TALK: CHOOSE GOD'S DEFINITION

There are as many different definitions of beauty as there are locations on the map. In some countries, the fatter a woman is, the more beautiful she is declared. There are places where altered skull shape is beautiful and the more body piercings the better. There are so many human definitions of what is beautiful that one could go crazy trying to figure out which one is best. That's why we need to look at the one true definition: God's definition.

The Bible is so clear about God's attraction to the things of the heart. Yes, He is the creator of external beauty, but nothing is more beautiful to Him than a heart that is fully submitted to Him. Think about this: Jesus Himself wasn't considered a handsome man. The Bible says that if we saw Him, we wouldn't desire Him based on looks (Isa. 53:2). Also, the apostle Paul is said to be very awkward looking—short and bald with bushy eyebrows. If nothing else, this should tell us to get out there and get going. We must never let the world's definition of beauty (and our perceived lack in this area) keep us from being mighty warriors for our God.

FORWARD FOCUS: BEAUTY