God moves through struggle

This photo came up on my “Your Memories on Facebook” on Monday. Seeing it flooded my heart with sadness. 

It was 7 years ago at a Zumba fundraising event at St.Bens. A handful of us thought it sounded fun to dance the night away for a good cause — and it was! My memories of the evening are great; it’s the empty, hollowed-out figure you see that brings a darkness over me. 

Meet Alissa: soon-to-be college graduate with an identity in excelling. I was on track to finish with a 3.92 GPA with a double major in nutrition and communications, opening the door for me to enter into the Phi Beta Kappa Society and walk the ceremony as one of the top students. I would soon be running the Minneapolis Marathon, at which (little did I know at the time) I’d qualify for Boston. Things were going well — really well — and yet, look at me. On paper I looked amazing but in person ...

I was probably around 101 pounds at the time, measuring at a height of just under 5’8”. In the running community, I was built for success — long legs with a slim frame that provided little resistance as I ran. I felt powerful. I looked meek. 

I was never afraid of food (far from it, actually). What I struggled with was a blatant imbalance between work and rest, and exercise and eating. If I could write a mantra for my life at the time, it would be “undernourish, overachieve.” And that’s what I did. Over and over. Day after day. 

Eight months after graduating from college, I accepted a position as a writer at Allina Health. It was a great fit for my background and a story of Divine intervention in itself (for another time). I was relieved, to say the least, to close the door on my season of resumes, online applications and interviews. But my tendency to overachieve didn’t stop; I continued down the path of doing more and striving for better than before. I was my own worst enemy and best competition. 

I was stretching myself thin in all areas of life. I remember the day I stepped on the scale and saw 92.7 lbs flash on the screen. I knew I was too small and yet, letting up on the gas pedal felt like putting in less than 100%. My identity was in excelling and the thought of doing anything but my best felt wrong. Uncomfortable. Like giving up. 

Meanwhile I dealt with side comments and stares in public. I remember shopping in The Limited with my mom one afternoon when a lady looked at me and said “You’re the thinnest person I’ve ever seen.” She looked shocked, as did other shoppers who heard. I grew accustomed to occurrences like this and stares, usually at my shoulders and collar-bone area, never looking into my eyes. Ironically, I wanted to be seen in my ever-shrinking body. Anyone who gave me time had an agenda to fix me. I didn’t want to be fixed; I wanted relationships, the ones I once enjoyed but had gradually faded away. No matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t get them back — not with how I looked. 

The comments were tough, as were the stares, but the toughest thing was never being hugged — never truly embraced. Looking back, I get it. I was so thin, friends and family thought they would break me. I don’t hold that against them. They had no idea it’s what I needed most. Maybe that’s why I love hugs so much now; I went years without one. 

In retrospect, I realize how undernourished I was physically but more so, emotionally. God created hearts for fellowship and connection; it’s what humanizes existence. I was depleted. Fortunately, my God tank remained full; it’s the only thing that kept me afloat. 

And so I pressed on, isolated but diligent. Despite my circumstances, I can honestly say I didn’t lose my joy. My dependence on the Lord only deepened and I slowly started seeing how God was using my situation to pave the way for something great for my future. I continued to trust and pray for God to stir within me, shaping me according to His will. “You’re the Potter, I’m the clay,” I’d  pray. “Your timing is perfect. It has to be.”

Long story short, God has worked miracles on my mindset. He’s given me peace beyond understanding and rewired me to wholeheartedly believe my identity is in who I am instead of what I do. I am a Daughter of the King. (Amen!) And I claim that every day. 

But sometimes I ask why. 

Why did I have to struggle during what was supposed to be some of the best years of my life? I can’t know for sure (one day, I will) but I think God had a few reasons. First and foremost, He needed to deepen my faith and dependence on Him. It’s easy to stray and attempt to control everything oneself. For a workhorse like me, God had to cut me off from something  I couldn’t work toward or accomplish: relationships. I had no other choice but to rely solely on Him. 

Second, I think God was (and still is) equipping me to help others in a special way. It’s no secret encourager was written on my heart at a young age. Reaching out to friends, family, neighbors and even random folks in public has always come naturally to me. It’s beautiful how God continues to provide a steady stream of people in my path to nourish and encourage. I’m happy to accept His call. 

Maybe you’re reading this as a twenty-something student who repeatedly raises the bar on yourself. Or maybe you’re a too-busy professional searching for that “thing” that’s been missing for years. You may even know you have a God-shaped hole in your heart but are unsure how to take the first step toward filling it. If that’s you, I’m here for you — in prayer, words of encouragement or maybe just a nice conversation over coffee. 

Because God moves through struggle ... and sometimes through a just-shy-of-30-year-old Daughter of the King. 

2011 Bennie Zumba Event