For many years, I considered myself a believer, A Christian. I went through all kinds of motions: early morning prayer, off to church on Sunday, read and study the bible alone and with groups of people, I even left literature in the bathroom at the conservatory I attended. I was just eighteen years old and was subsequently called into the Dean’s office (I was delighted that they knew it was me as I was so vocal about my love for God!)
Since the age of 14, I had struggled with a binge disorder that included episodes of fasting, binging and bulimia, all at the same time that I was pulled into that Deans office for leaving literature in the bathroom. Why didn’t it dawn on me to bring this problem to God? In fact, I would live like that for another five years until I was twenty-two years old and the mother of two tiny people (age 2 years and 8 days old). I finally cried out to God, “Help me, I’m like an alcoholic only it’s the food! I can’t control this! Help me!” I wasn’t trying to be dramatic; I was alone, it was late morning, the children were napping and I was laying on my kitchen floor, face down and arms out stretched as if my kitchen windows were facing God! Why did I wait so long to bring the problem to God?