Weightless value

During my one migraine-free day last week, Matt, my sister, brother-in-law, and I had a great day hiking around the Lake Tahoe area.

I am so sorry to have missed my usual Monday posting, but I have been a bit under the weather. 

Namely, I had five excruciating migraines from last Friday until yesterday (Wednesday!) Not fun.  I asked the doctor yesterday what could possibly be the cause, and she said there are many reasons:

Most likely, it’s the pregnancy + stress + ol’ head injury again, but it could have been something I ate, a change in weather, or anything. 

My question for you is no matter your diagnosis or illness, have you ever sensed that God is teaching you something through your sickness—through your pain?

Because God spoke to me through one of these moments of desperation this week.

I began migraine Number 4 with crying and desperately wanting to tell God how much I hated Him. I know. Not very Christian of me. I didn’t go as far as to say I hated Him, but He got the message that I was not thrilled.

When this migraine started, Matt and I were in South Lake Tahoe (one of my new favorite places on the planet), and had planned the last of our three short vacation days to go hiking. 

You have to understand something about me: I adore the outdoors. I live in Lodi where, I’m sorry fellow Lodians, but agriculture outside of vineyards in our dear little city completely stinks. I hunger for the dunes, lakes, and forests of Michigan. Lake Tahoe comes close. 

This was in our backyard of our apartments in Ludington, Michigan. I walked here nearly every day--rain, snow, or sun!

So when on Monday morning I began to see the visual snakes, flashing lights, or “aura” as I prepared for hiking, I began to weep. Seeing these spots means I am in for four to twelve hours of feeing an ice pick chip away at my temple. There is no escape.

Why, God? I begged. You could take this away! Why don’t you help me?

With courage I did not know I possessed, I mentally turned away from staring at my pain and yelling toward God, and faced Him. I let down my mental guard. 

God, what do you want to say to me? I asked. Is there something I need to apologize for? Are you using this pain to get my attention?

I don’t believe God sends illness. He is God. He is perfect. He doesn’t have a box of dark potions in heaven that he pours down on His kids when they disobey. However, He can use the badness in this world to grab our attention.

I didn’t hear anything. I sensed He was distant. I believe I have mentioned on this blog that sin keeps us from hearing God. There was sin in my life.

When I recognized this truth and confessed it, I was able to listen and hear.

Laurie, dear girl, I heard. You are not trusting me with you. You are not giving me your total self. 

I immediately knew to what He was referring.

Here's a candid, prego side-shot. Matt looks ready to pounce on my sister, the camerawoman. Lol

Jesus was pointing at my self-hatred. For most of life, I have struggled with liking the Real Laurie. This includes my appearance. I thought I was too scrawny, then too fat, then too…something. 

I think this is one of the reasons I first thought homosexuality could be the answer for me: Because a woman would love me as I am. I would not need to live up to some ridiculous standards “the man” set.

The truth, however, is that the only being I can ever truly impress every second of every day is Jesus. And He already thinks I’m gorgeous inside and out because He made me.

So, if I know this, then why don’t I like Laurie now?  

It may sound silly and trite, but I have recently been stressing about gaining pregnancy weight.  I know, I know, I know: It is “beautiful.” “It’s not fat; it’s a baby.” Blah blah blah. 

I’ve heard it, and said it to myself and others. When I first found out I was pregnant, I went to my little sister and said, “Ang, if I ever complain about gaining weight, you have permission to slap me across the face.” We laughed, but knew it might come to that. We are fully aware of my insecurities.

You are not trusting me with you, Jesus whispered. It’s true. I have been trying to control my appearance with what I eat and how I exercise. While it is definitely good to be someone who is aware of health, I am one who errs on the side of overly aware.

And therefore stress. And therefore migraines.

Jesus wants all of me. Not just the prayers for healthy baby, financial stability, and physical healing, but for total freedom from worshipping the things of this world—such as a perfect baby-bumped or baby-free body. 

We will all worship something, but only in worshipping Jesus am I truly free, stress free, and Lord willing, migraine free.

God help me to keep my ear and heart close to this truth: 
I am valuable as me, no matter how much I weigh.