Zebra Color


Seven Years Ago

White. They were all so white. The walls of the hospital were pasty and blotchy. They were a dead white. Nor surprisingly, it wasn’t the absence of color and or design that drew me to them. I stared at these walls because I had nothing else to do. I needed to be distracted from the black swarms as they feasted on the fleshy patches of my soul.

Surrounded by all this white I was convinced that somehow I had landed in the deepest, darkest place of myself. At least there was a contrast to the pallid somewhere in this place. At least there was something besides the white I could focus on but I didn’t want to focus on it.

The high-heeled woman with a ritzy PhD to her name told me I should focus on it but I didn’t agree with her. Plus, she always smelt awful, like sweat and microwaved food. If there were any morsels in my stomach to let up they would be launched up in her presence. I swear…

When I thought she wasn’t looking I would sneak glances at her perfectly coiffed hair and shiny lips and wonder how she could begin to know what I was going through. I bet she lived in suburbia her entire life.

I watched and felt my mind turn from thoughts of her and return so aptly to the black. The walls they walls! Think about the walls. I screamed to myself.

Too late.

The black swarm that washed over my heart and mind was a symbol of death. Sometimes when I thought about it for too long I was convinced the black was death itself and who could escape from death? There is a time for everything under the sun. The message from my cranky Sunday school teacher floated through my thoughts ominously.

If only Jesus was enough. Where was He now? Where was He when my family was smashed to pieces? “Where are you now?” I screamed. My voice echoed towards the nurses’ station. Within seconds they would make their way down the hall and towards me, the prisoner dressed in cotton.

This is all too much. I whispered before planting my back on the white wall and sliding to the cold floor. Maybe it should be my time to go but I desired life. I wanted to live and be like all the other sixteen year olds my age that were making something of themselves. “But right now I can’t because I’m”….worthless…. the lie drifted into my peripheral, stuck a dart into my cranium and shot back into Hades. I groaned and pulled my thin legs closer to my body.

I could hear soft footfalls and murmurs as they made their way towards me. I didn’t want to see them. “Lord, save me.” I whimpered before burying my tear-streaked face deeper into my shirt.

Seven Years Later:

I recognize this story as the part of my life that I lived with an eating disorder. It was the part of life where no one understood me and where no help was offered. It was the part of my life where I almost died from a lack of nutrients. Twice.

I am a survivor because of Gods’ grace and a choice.

It’s hard to believe this part of my story took place almost seven years ago now and equally as crazy to realize the battle certainly didn’t stop when I left the Foothills hospital. Even though I welcomed the Lord in to work with my heart the evil thoughts of self-deprecation continued on for as long as I allowed them to.

The Lord was able to completely take over when I realized I didn’t want that same life anymore. He came to complete me when I allowed Him to.

I now know it is possible to be free from an eating disorder. Even better then that, it is possible to experience this challenging life with a best friend who desires to walk through every aspect of my life with us.

His name is Jesus (actually, Yehoshua in the original Hebrew) and no this is not stereotypical, hope it works for you, testimony. This is truth.

I can assure you that Christ wants to heal you of whatever ails you. If He can save me from the depths I was in. He will save you too! Cry out to the name of Jesus and ask Him to save you no matter what your mess happens to be. He will always answer. He will heal. He will restore. I am living proof of this truth.

Psalm 40:2- He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.

A song of praise to our God!


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