Redemption Outside The Shadows – A Mighty Fortress

Today is Day 18.

There is a book written by a friend.

Her story is her’s but she is brave and bold in her sharing. Her desire for other’s healing.

Her heart longs for a collective healing from the disease that pounces and robs.

As I work my way through the book, its a work of the heart. I think of the spokes of my life’s wheel, the intersection. The place where broken shows up in our lives.

How the spokes radiate out and poke holes in wholeness. Push through places, bruising flesh, heart, soul, and mind. Our life.

This is a labor of love, this working my way through her words, treading lightly and gently through a fragile piece such as this.

You know that God worked redemptively and tenderly through the hearts of these. So you rush not in, to speak. No quietly with a reverence.

You nod and bend and bow to the boldness. You open up a burning heart for truth.  Hungry for healing. Searching. Longing. Looking for places that reveal God in and all around.

And I am seeing,

How her story is uniquely her’s. It is.

How it intersects my life. It does.

What I am left celebrating in her story. So very much.

I have not completed winding my eyes through the lines of her heart and life, laid out in hope in the telling. I know much from her beautiful book trailer, other’s words about her words, the proclamations of healing on her web sight and on her blog.

A story goes out and forth in its telling, testifiying of a work, magnifying the redemption and hope. Doubles down and  carries on its back those who tell of the wounded’s hope.

Like the pointed metal spokes that roll on rim of traveling tire time, the pointed tips of Emily’s time in shackles rolls right over where we’ve treaded, my co-travellers. Those I love.

I know of  gaunt and rail thin, pushing back from food, leaning in to porcelain rims, throwing out a single calorie breath mint to forgo the stomach-bound disc.

And souls locked in weak weary battle of control. Left wounded, weak. Weary.

But all that’s hurt and broken diminishes in the Light of honest, light of the telling.

Where story walks out new life, while scars are healing, scars close up at the hands of The Great Physician.

My daughter is almost 17 and I look questioning into the eyes and onto the bones and flesh of her friends. Speaking into her beauty, inside and out. Loving the wholeness and relationship with nourishment I see.

She is passionate about life and living and her hopes and dreams for the future. She has not known a weakened war of wills with disease or addiction. But a mother watches and prays and hopes for wholeness in her child of mind, body, and spirit.

The happy faces beam over greens and fruits, protein, sweets, a balance of all the goodness  He provides. The energy drawn from food sources, from the good gifts He gives for nourishment.

And I know the weak and weary from cutting off the calories, reducing down the intake to a slow and painful walk on barely enough. The damage unkown exactly to me. I could ask Emily, ask  a doctor, ask the authorities.

I want my daughter mighty and strong. I want the highest and best for her life.

I long for her to see the beauty and completeness in what God created in her,  formed in her woman flesh. That taking it down and whittling it away to thin frail gaunt is not a life goal. Not an elusive idol, to be rail thin and shadowy.

We women can go and do much in a day, there is loving and living for us, mighty work. God work. God ordained.

Emily is a beautiful friend. I want her words to go forth, her words, a healing ministry.

I long for her words to be available in church libraries, school libraries, counselor’s shelves, on the bedside table of hurting women and teens.

Yesterday Duane wrote a piece you really do not want to miss at his place and at Emily’s
blog. It’s here. It involves the pain and struggle of a teenage boy.

As a mother of boys , I long for healthy body images for them too. Read Emily’s words here:

Chasing Silhouettes is intended to be a spiritual guide to help families redefine body image, as well as to offer insight for caregivers into the minds and hearts of those battling an eating disorder. As someone who battled  anorexia nervosa, both as a child and as an adult, I am here to offer you hope. Our young people, our loved ones, do not have to be defeated by the lies that permeate culture today. But in order to defeat these lies, we need to understand truth.

Please leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for two copies of Emily’s book. You may choose to comment on why you’d like a copy, or simply speak to what’s on your heart on this subject. I will email the winner by week’s end.

To purchase Emily’s book go HERE

Or Here or to Chasing Silhouettes web sight to read more.

From the web sight, read these words of hope:

Chasing Silhouettes: How to Help A Loved One Battling an Eating Disorder is the story of a broken family that finds healing through an eating disorder. It’s the story of how even good Christians need redemption, and how eating disorders pervade all homes- even the seemingly perfect ones.

A unique resource, it addresses the whole of the illness: physical, mental, emotional and spiritual, providing shocking insight into the disordered eater’s mind that no other book will offer.

This is Day 18 in a 31 Day Series. To read the collective go here or the 31 Day Series page at the top of the page. Today’s word is Healing.

If you’d like to follow all posts in the series and those published at wynnegraceappears, subscribe to follow by email or in a reader. I post daily in October and several times a week in other months.

Its a JOY to think of having you along on the journey.

Joining Michelle at Thought Provoking Thursdays.

Broken: Simply A Story of Hope

Something in my world  was broken.

Injured. Wounded. Hurting.

It looked as though all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put something back together again.

Broken beyond repair.

To many. To most. To the world.

Hope was fading.Hope was dim. There were days when hope was gone.

And hearts were hurting, aching, bruised. Hearts were busted. Tears ran down the cheeks of man.

They ran hard, they ran fast, and they ran wet.

And they flowed, these tears.They flowed long. They flowed steady.

They delivered the sting of grief to the puddled places of the pained.

And the words flew all around.

While the sting of pain seared red hot mad.

Hope  slipped away. Despair settled in.

For some, hope was no more.

Until God.

Until God the Healer breathed His healing breath into the brokeness.

Until God the restorer of Hope touched the broken.

The hard is made soft. The tough turns to tender. The Light shines in the dark.

The broken begins to show signs of healing where Light pierces the charcoal black,
the pit dark, the ebony shadows of hurt.

God’s touch brings new life. Restores the busted.

Delivers change. Re-builds hope. And rebuilds lives.

Restores souls.

And God writes the  change. He writes the story new. He bold proclaims the title changed, to one with Him, of Hope.

With each new page, Healing stands up and stands strong in the middle of the mess.

With each new day, Love pours out and finds a home in the heart of the hurting.

And broken mends at the hands of the Healer. And pain fades dim while Hope shines bright.

And man looks on and says, this is miracle to me. This is  miracle to us.

The story is told anew by The Author of Hope.

An ending is rewritten, for today. An ending of Hope and Healing.

And man stands in awe of God. A witness to His  work of love in lives, in hearts, in hurt.

And the King of Kings puts all the broken pieces back together again.

And man tells of this change. And of these things. And speaks of the work of The Re-creator. In his life. And in his heart.

While Hope grows strong and steady.

Where hope was lost, new songs  now sing from the lips of man.

The eyes see, anew. The ears  hear anew. The heart is witness. And will never forget.

The Broken fades and the Healing continues.

The wounded reach out to the Healer and hang on, with Hope, in Love.

Tears dry. And happy has a place to be. And Joy moves in and finds her home among the hearts of the once-broken.

And God delights in the renewal of the Hope, of the Love, of the Wounded Heart.

He binds up the broken, with restorative Love.

He wipes the eye and clears the tear again and again.

And the Human heart sees. And the lips give Praise. And tell. And show.

And the life tells its new story.

Of God, of Love and of the Healed.

Lives point to  Him who  is Good and Him who is Great.

And the Broken are mended in love, once again.

And the lips and the words and the lives tell of this.

And the restored cannot keep quiet. And the healed cannot sit silent.

So they tell of the Editor and Author of Grace.

That God’s Grace and Love poured out into the cracks and healed the broken shards.

And  lives were restored, with God Love.

To the Healer be Glory. Forever and ever Amen.

The beginning. NOT the end.

Because He writes these stories for all.

And the power in the telling of one gives Hope to the stories of many.

What’s your story of God’s restored Hope and Healing? 

Linking with Duane and Jennifer and Ann today.