After attempting to sort through all of the options available to me after finishing high school, I had settled on two possibilities. One was to join the Navy, and the other was to go to more school. I knew I didn't have much job experience, so I wouldn't be the first on anyone's list for possible hires if I came in with my empty resume.  By that point, I wanted to work in the mental health field. One of the odd things that happened after being released from formal treatment is that I became overly confident that I was well enough to help other people overcome eating disorders.  Now that I had "run the race," I was qualified to coach, or at least that is what I concluded.  That was one more incorrect assumption.

I had found out before graduating that one of my options was eliminated; I did not qualify for the Navy. I had been diagnosed with a heart murmur when I was 15, which was assumed to be a side-effect from my low body weight at the time. After going through the Navy application process, taking placement tests, going out of town for a physical exam and interviews, I got the news from the recruiter one day at school that I was not qualified to join. I was crushed by the news. He told me it was because of my heart condition. I had put all my hope into having a future in the US military, and that option was no longer available to me. I felt like I had been punched in the guts. I remember praying about it that night, trying to convince God that I believed He had another plan for me. I wasn't convinced that was really true, but I did my best to try to keep a positive attitude.

In the meantime, I was receiving daily brochures from college campuses. I think when college recruiting offices get the name of a high school senior, they react a bit like sharks to the scent of blood. There is an all-out chase to get that student on board with them. It was a bit overwhelming, and I started looking at the University of North Dakota (UND) because it was in my home state, and Northwest Christian College (NCC) in Eugene, OR.   Although the idea of moving half way across the country was frightening, I was pretty desperate to get into a different environment that would hopefully sustain my relationship with God (i.e. a Christian college) instead of an environment that would constantly bombard it (state school). I was still pretty naive, thinking that a change of environment would be all that it would take for my mind to be well again.  And I was also naive in thinking that a Christian college would be a place where my faith would not be bombarded. Sigh.

I ended up deciding on Northwest Christian College, and I felt pretty confident that is where the Lord was leading me. Because every high school senior is repeatedly asked, "Where are you going next year?", I was no exception. I proudly answered with "Northwest Christian College in Eugene, OR" because I was so excited I had an answer now :). The next question, without fail, was "What denomination are they?" Um...no matter how many times I got that question, I never knew how to respond. I usually said "Just Christian." (Duh! It's right in the name!) Side note- they are technically Disciples of Christ/Church of Christ, and even in my naivite, I knew by then that denominations were just another way for people to pass judgements on whether or not I was their "type" of Christian. No, I'm probably not. Let me just tell you that up front.

Anyway, I am getting a bit off track. That fake-spiritual "curiosity" of asking questions to put me into a category still grates on me apparently. I believe Jesus is King. That's what I believe.

It turned out that changing environments sufficed to mask my symptoms, but it still didn't heal me. I met some really great friends and got to go to chapel twice each week, so that was all well and good, and my work and school schedules kept me in a very stable regimen of work, study, eat, sleep. My heart still hurt though. How do you heal a broken heart? The worst part was, I didn't really even have a reason to have a broken heart. My physical needs were always met growing up, I had a stable home, good education, it was all there. But I always felt empty. What was that about? Why couldn't I be filled?

I remember riding my bike along the Willamette River one day, singing "Jesus, lead on, I will follow/ Jesus, lead on, let Your love light the way. Jesus, lead on, I will follow/Jesus lead on (Jesus lead oooon)". And I expected/hoped an actual light to appear and lead me. I wanted some direction, some solid sign that my life was pleasing to God.  I knew those kind of things happened to other people, and I would feel His presence, but I never saw a light. I never got an audible voice, or a million dollars in my bank account from an anonymous donor with a note saying "The Holy Spirit prompted me to give this to you." I never got any of those once-in-a-lifetime stories that make great testimonies for a few, but tend to bring a feeling of condemnation for the masses who are told they just have to believe more, fast more, pray more, jump through 5 hoops and crawl on your belly to the statue in the center of the city, and on and on. What I got was a lifetime commitment, for better or worse, in sickness and in health. Would I be committed to Him through it all? I didn't know where else to go or what else to do. I was lost without Him.  I still am completely lost without Him.

The reality was that I would default back to bingeing any time I got the chance. I would eat a whole box of cereal alone in my dorm room, or way too much ice cream when I went out with friends, or an extra bagel here, more peanut butter bread there. You get the picture. I was hoping God would change me from the outside in. I was hoping that would work, because it was the only way I knew of at the time.

I knew there had to be more. I knew God was the great Physician. I knew He was the Wonderful Counselor. I knew He was the Healer. I knew if anyone could heal me, it was Him.

More to come.