9 years

9 years ago I had a lovely heart to heart with my then therapist. She told me that I could see her and work on my stuff for another 10 years, or go to rehab and cut my time by half. After a sturn "HELL NO!" from my lovely potty mouth, the question became a very strong urge. That day we called Remuda Ranch, found out they had 1 bed left, snatched it up and then worked for the next 2 days to figure out all the details. My life changed that August. And I can't believe it's been 9 years.

An eating disorder inpatient rehab is full of characters- I am talking "Orange is the New Black" type of characters.. except that the title should have been something like "fat is the new skinny" or "crazy is the new black." I walked in that first day and though I was in the twilight zone. I was the only bulimic in the world of anorexics. They swore to me that it is usually 50/50, but that I just came at a weird time when the primary population was anorexic. Once they went through my bags and took all sorts of objects that I never though were dangerous (... lotion? What in the world could I do dangerous with lotion?) I began to meet my roommates. There was a group of 10 of us that were there for the 80 days I was there. Many came in and out, but 10 of us stuck together for sure.

P- the girl that only wore pink. I am not just talking about a pink tank top with jeans. I am talking about pink shirt with pink skirt, with pink shoes, and pink hairbows. I don't even know if its possible to do what she did.

Jennifer- the stereotypical Orange County girl

Q-the girl who "didn't have a problem" she just didn't like to eat.

K-the sweetest of them all. my one true friend. the one i could sneak into the big room with to watch tv, the only one i could truly complain to and the one who helped me get through family week.

And K- the one girl all girls are both drawn to and terrified of. Always taking cigarette breaks, massive issues with meds, the one that got me in trouble on countless times.

This was a more than challenging time. It was a time when I got to see my pain in a palpable form. It was the first time I met Jesus face to face. It was the place my faith and m recovery started. It was heart wrenching, difficult, and on some days just down right horrible.

But there were times when I wish we had a video camera.. .

Like when K pulled her feeding tube straight out of her nose in front of our dietitian. WHAT? Or when we got someone to get us panty hose when they were in town on parents weekend and we put them over our heads and snuck into the staff meeting to scare them. Or when K pulled my pants off and went running to the barn with them with me running pants-less behind her.

Oh dear.

What is more important than the crazy stories is THE story. The story of GRACE, REDEMPTION and FORGIVENESS that happened in That sacred place in Wickenburg.

I thought there was no way God could love a liar, a thief, an addict, a wounded body and a hot mess like me. I was not a good person... I had hurt a lot of people, lost the trust of my family and friends. So, in my heart I thought God was totally out of reach.

So, one afternoon I came to the cross at the ranch and told God how much I was mad at Him. And to my shock, he handled it. He loved me. He held me. I gave my life to Christ and the Gospel came to life.

Things didn't go perfect from then on. People didn't suddenly trust me, I didn't suddenly stop having urges to return to my old ways... But God was bigger. And I trusted that.

God saved a wretch like me. He pursues me. He was jealous for me. He redeemed my story.

Happy 9th Anniversary Jesus.