I wanted to open up about *why* I wrote it. I feel like the *why* behind a book is sometimes just as important as the *what* inside a book. Why did I specifically choose to write about eating disorders and recovery? Why did I write Real Recovery? Here are two of the main reasons.
"The more you do, the more worth you have.” This is a common message we never audibly hear, but it’s frequently implied by others—including by family members, friends, and church leaders. Not because they aren’t Christians per se or because they don’t truly care about you. But because they’ve bought the cultural lie that is stated above—“the more you do, the more worth you have.” We mistakenly believe that we will find strength in doing more—finding a side hustle, starting a hobby, setting new goals for ourselves, etc.
In our constantly hurrying culture, we rush from one activity to the next—but we don’t often think about how God wants us to spend our time. Perhaps this is because we believe the two major lies about our schedules.
I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever do something important with my life. Will I ever get to achieve something valuable or attain true success in my career? Or will I be stuck at a desk, doing filing and answering phones for the rest of my life?
We all struggle to find our identity in Christ alone. We all want to find our value in something we achieve, and we want others to notice our achievements. But Christ notices us—even without our achievements.
If you feel discouraged about working incredibly hard for someone and not getting what you think you deserve, remember God’s grace toward you. We deserved death. We had earned eternal sorrow and shame. But before we had even sinned, Christ gave us the abundant life—free from sin’s shackles—that He had earned.
Like every other season of life, you can make this the best or the worst of times. So choose your activities well. Don’t waste a moment. If you do nothing else this summer, learn to lean more on Christ and less on yourself.
I think most people feel like an unbaked bowl of cookie dough for the majority of their lives. We feel like an unbaked bowl of dough, or a blank canvas, or an unfinished math problem. And, for most of our lives, we constantly ask when the dough will be baked, the canvas will be painted, or the problem will be solved. We waste our whole lives trying to figure it out. And, as we try to figure it out, wrestling with questions and doubts and concerns, the cookies are being baked in the oven, the canvas is being painted, and the math problem is being solved—and we don’t even realize it.
Regardless of our personality types, we have common struggles—and a common Savior. Maybe an extrovert wrestles with sharing gossip, but an introvert wrestles with stopping it. Maybe an extrovert has trouble keeping secrets, but an introvert has trouble opening up with honesty. Maybe an extrovert has trouble listening to her friends, but an introvert has trouble being friendly.