My Big Bottom Blessing (4 page)

Once comfortably seated in His rightful spot, Jesus asked me to start going to church. I had never actually attended a real church in my life. Don't get me wrong, my family did believe in God, and we were part of an organized religious group for years. But we left once the leaders started interpreting the Bible in some less-than-orthodox ways. Years later I spotted the group's name on a list of cults to avoid. All I could do was shrug and thank God that at least there hadn't been poisoned Kool-Aid involved.

Along with giving my Sundays to God, some other serious changes started happening in my life—changes that startled many who knew me. I immediately stopped working in a bar. I immediately stopped partying and sleeping around. I immediately started listening to Amy Grant music (definitely not cool in southern Cal at the time). I was absolutely charged and excited about what Jesus was offering me: forgiveness and unconditional love.

It took a little while for Reflection to understand that by giving my life to Jesus, my past failures were as good as gone. In God's eyes, it was as if they had never happened, and that was good enough for me. Truth was what the Bible had to say about me, that “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow….” (Isa. 1:18). I was holding my head up high for the first time in my life.

Even so, there were several tense conversations:

REFLECTION
:
There is no way Jesus loves you. Think about all the filth you've been a part of!

YOUNG FAT WOMAN
:
I know. I know, but He really does love me. I can tell…in my heart.

REFLECTION
:
You can tell in your heart? Now, isn't that sweet. Priceless! Are you really that stupid?

YOUNG FAT WOMAN
:
I'm choosing to believe what God says to me in the Bible. That's final. I get a do-over.

After seeing my resolve, Reflection lightened up on me a bit. But not for long.

Right around my twenty-second birthday, Tennessee called my name. My parents and siblings had moved there a while before me, and I could feel them tugging on my heart. So I loaded up my Toyota Celica (the kind with the cool flip-up headlights) to the brim, and left California behind. It was a grand trip—just Jesus and me. It was an epic adventure.

But not long after settling in, my adventure took an unexpected turn. At first the turn looked good: I met a cute guy…in church! He had big muscles, a winning smile, and (most importantly, of course) he was an usher. Surprisingly, he started to take an interest in me, and we began spending time together.

We talked a lot, and day by day I began to see that under those big muscles he was broken. He had issues—big issues—mainly with drugs and alcohol. Some pretty clear signs led me to wonder if I should leave the relationship behind. My parents saw the signs, too, and pleaded with me to get out while there was still a chance. But Trainer and Reflection had another take on the situation:

REFLECTION
:
Who is she to expect perfection from anyone? I mean, just think about all those horrible things she did when she was younger. Come on!

TRAINER
:
I agree. Plus, look at that rear end. She's lucky this guy even finds her attractive.

REFLECTION
:
And, Jesus would want her to sacrifice for this guy. After all, isn't that what Christianity is about? Being willing to give up everything—even if it means being miserable?

TRAINER
:
She's only gonna get fatter over the years. She better take this chance while she's got it. There might never be another guy who would find that body attractive.

REFLECTION
:
You're right. She should stick with him no matter what!

So, it was settled. The guy needed to be loved, and the perfect one for the job was me. I chose to stick by my man. And even though he was in drug and alcohol treatment only months before, I walked down the aisle with him and became his wife.

I knew I'd made a mistake the moment I said “I do.”

Of course a baby was on the way shortly after the honeymoon. Even though the news sucked the wind out of me initially, my sweet baby Carli saved my life. She's my positive note, my bright spot, my beauty from ashes, and all the other metaphors that represent amazingly sweet things that can come from devastation.

But my husband only got worse and worse. Oh, he tried to stay sober between bouts of jail and treatment, but he was still broken. His brokenness came out in abuse toward me, and after I could let little Carli see no more, she and I left. It didn't take long for him to start sleeping around, which made it clear to me our relationship was unalterably shattered, and with that another childhood dream died. My story was not going to end with a happily ever after.

Reflection made sure the scarlet letter “D” was securely fastened to my identity. I was a young, fat, divorced single mom. (Had I been one to use the classified ads to find a date, they could just call me YFDSM. Great. No thanks.)

REFLECTION
:
Great! Look what you've done. How do you expect God to ever use you for anything now? You're a…divorced…woman. (
Looks away with disgust.
)

YOUNG FAT DIVORCED SINGLE MOM
:
I don't know. (
Tears.
)

REFLECTION
:
You've really let God down. And no one will ever want you now that you're…you're tainted!

TRAINER
:
And look at you! You're even fatter now than ever. And look at all those stretch marks. Now, that's pretty! (
Three short, sarcastic grunts.
)

YOUNG FAT DIVORCED SINGLE MOM
:
I know. I know. Just leave me alone. Please! Leave me alone.

Failure. My relationship could officially be added to the other one-third of Christian marriages that ended in divorce that year. What an accomplishment!

There was no getting around it. With all the heart and soul I could muster up, I threw myself into being the best mom possible, going back to school to become a teacher in hopes of becoming an adequate provider for my baby girl. There was a lot of alone time spent with Jesus, since He was the only one who would have me. And after many, many months of Jesus pursuing me, I found out He was the only one I really needed. He loved me desperately, even though I was…fat.

1. Stand in front of the mirror completely naked (not with your small group, of course). Write exactly what you think about yourself. ________________________________________________________
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2. How do you think your answer from question one lines up with what God would say about you? __________________________________
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3. A recent
   Glamour
   magazine poll revealed that 97 percent of women have negative thoughts about themselves every day. How often do you have negative thoughts about yourself? ________________________
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4. If you answered “every day” to question three, about how many times a day do you think something negative of yourself? ________________________________________________________
   
5. Do you remember the time in your life when your negative thoughts about yourself began? If so, when was it? ________________________________________________________
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6. Trainer (the one who hates your appearance) might not live in your head, but I'll bet you've heard a voice like hers. What is something typical you remember hearing from her? How did you reply?
   

   a.
   TRAINER
   :
   ______________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   

   b.
   YOU
   :
   __________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   

7. Reflection (the one who is disappointed with you as a person) might not live in your head, but you've probably heard a voice like hers, as well. What is something typical you remember hearing from her? How did you reply?
   

   a.
   REFLECTION
   :
   __________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   

   b.
   YOU
   :
   __________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   ________________________________________________________________
   

Even though it is far less than pleasant to admit the negative self-talk that takes place in our heads, getting real about it is the first step toward silencing the voices we're sick of. Ignoring Trainer and Reflection (and any others who get their kicks out of deriding us) is not going to solve anything. We want those self-defeating voices to feel as exposed as a person in a porta-potty who forgot to lock the door. We want them to start worrying because we are ready for serious change. Today is the beginning of the end of business as usual.

• Proverbs 16:3—Commit your works to the L
  ORD
  , and your
  thoughts
  will be established.
  
• Isaiah 55:8—For My thoughts are not your
  thoughts
  , nor are your ways My ways, says the L
  ORD
  .
  
• Isaiah 55:9—For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My
  thoughts
  than your thoughts.
  
• Jeremiah 4:14—O Jerusalem, wash your heart from wickedness, that you may be saved. How long shall your evil
  thoughts
  lodge within you?
  
• Jeremiah 29:11—For I know the
  thoughts
  that I think toward you, says the L
  ORD
  , thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.
  
• Matthew 12:25—But Jesus knew their
  thoughts
  , and said to them: “Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation, and every city or house divided against itself will not stand.”
  
• Hebrews 4:12—For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the
  thoughts
  and intents of the heart.
  

I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
That I would see the goodness of the L
ORD
In the land of the living.

—KING DAVID (PSALM 27:13)

 

Okay, so who's ready for a really sweet love story? I hope you raised your hand, because I think the next part of my tale will encourage you.

I took being a single mom very seriously. I worked several part-time jobs—things I could do with Carli—and went to school full-time. We had so much fun together, my little buddy and me. And I was doing my best to stay hopeful.

Now, chances are you, too, either are now, were at some point, or have a good friend who is a single mom. After all, according to the US Census Bureau, there are approximately 9.9 million single mothers in America, a number that has tripled over the last four decades.
³

You also might know that the big issue for Christian single moms is trying to really be okay with it. Even more truthful: trying to be okay with the thought of not having help to raise your child, not having a man to love, not being held, feeling like you're a second-class citizen, always being alone.

The goal for the Christian single mom is to get to the point where God is truly enough. And I believe we all get there. Then we stop pretending. We admit that everything is not okay, and we cry out to that God—the one who way back in Genesis said Himself that it's not good for us to be alone. We expose what we believe to be weakness: a longing for companionship that just won't ever leave. And hoping He will understand that we love Him still, we dare to put words to our most private prayer:
Father, can I have another chance?

Sometimes God's actions just don't seem fair. And I guess I'd have to say I'm glad. Let me tell you why.

There was once a little boy named Bill who grew up the youngest of eight children. He was a very good boy, and he told his mom and dad that when he grew up he wanted to be a “wuka [worker], a dahday [daddy], and a ministow [minister].”

As the boy grew into young adulthood, he made a very special decision. He would not mess around with dating a woman until it was the one he thought he would marry. He would not even kiss a woman until he found the one. And he stuck to it.

The young boy grew to be a man who looked back at his growing years with no regrets. He had not given his body to any, though there were many who would have had him, for he was quite handsome. He did not spend his time unwisely, instead he went to college, learned to build houses, fix cars, and play several musical instruments.

Then one day at church, Bill met a woman who intrigued him. Speaking to her casually here and there, he began to like her. In his heart he just knew she was the one. The one he had saved himself for all these years. The one he could give himself to completely.

Now, I bet you are already forming a picture in your mind of the woman Bill would choose. She would be a virgin, of course…blonde, blue eyes, perfect body…pure as the driven snow. Don't you think that's what he deserved after all that restraint? It would only be fair.

Well, guess what kind of woman God gave him? A young, fat, so-not-a-virgin, divorced single mom. That's right. He gave Bill
me.

I was just as shocked as you probably are to learn that such an amazing man wanted me. I thought God was playing a really cruel joke…on Bill! He was way too good for me. Reflection and Trainer both agreed:

REFLECTION
:
It is just so sad for that sweet boy that he s ending up with you. Think of how many men have…well, you know. Gross!!!

TRAINER
:
Just wait until he sees your body naked. He's going to be sick. And when he touches you…Oh, I just can't think about it. (
Holds hand over mouth as if stifling barf.
)

Even though I didn't want to say goodbye to Bill, I knew they were right. It wasn't a fair exchange. He was way above my caliber, and I just knew it had to be obvious to everyone. I wanted to have a serious talk with Bill about it all—to let him know he deserved better, and I would understand if he wanted to keep looking.

First, I needed to have a talk with God.

YOUNG FAT DIVORCED SINGLE MOM
:
God, how could You do this? How could You bring such an amazing man into my life—someone who loves You and loves Carli and…even loves me? You know I'm not good enough for him. It's just not fair for You to give him junk as a reward.

GOD
:
You are right, it's not fair. It would be fair for you to pay the price for all the wrongs you have done. It would be fair for you to get what you deserve. But…I chose to take care of it all for you. My love for you surpasses what is or isn't fair. My perfect, sinless Son bled and died for every one of your sins. Every single one. When I look at you, Teasi, I see you through that blood. I see Bill through that blood. You are both clean. You are a perfect gift for Bill.

For some divine reason, I didn't argue—not with God or myself. I just let those words sink deep into my heart, and somehow they muted all the objections waiting there. Who was I to tell God Almighty that Jesus wasn't enough? I didn't want to offend the Most High, so I decided not to have the talk with Bill. I would just have to trust God that I was a good match for him.

But I still didn't want Bill to ever have to touch my body.

Bill and I spent every possible moment together talking about almost everything—likes and dislikes, goals and dreams, hopes and fears. Well, I guess I'm really the only one who had fears, and they tormented me. Soon Bill could see that.

“What is bothering you?” he asked me one night.

I dreaded this conversation, and I was perfectly aware that it fit nicely in the “What Not to Talk About on a Date” category. But if I was going to possibly spend the rest of my life with this man, he would find out this information sooner or later. So, even though I was ashamed and felt like I wanted to throw up, I decided to show Bill the most vulnerable part of me. I had no idea what he would do with it.

“You have a beautiful, fit body, Bill, and you've waited all these years for God's best for you. How can I possibly be that?” I had to turn my eyes away for the next part. “I'm fat and scarred from having Carli, and I don't want you to see me.”

When I looked back for his response, Bill s eyes were welling up with tears. He reached out and pulled me as close as he could—so close that I could feel his heart beating against my cheek. Gently pushing my hair away so that I would be sure to hear, he whispered into my ear. He told me that I was beautiful to him—more beautiful than he could put into words—that I was his precious gift from God. Nothing I had to say about it could change that.

To Bill the issue was settled. But Trainer…she was absolutely beside herself with anxiety, and she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

TRAINER
:
You are getting married in three months! You don't have any time to lose.

YOUNG FAT ENGAGED-TO-BE-MARRIED SINGLE MOM
:
I know that! Calm down!

TRAINER
:
I will not calm down until you get at least thirty pounds off of that big, fat body of yours. Can you imagine what you will look like in a wedding dress at your size? Do they even sell them that big?

YOUNG FAT ENGAGED-TO-BE-MARRIED SINGLE MOM
:
I know. I'm going to start running tomorrow.

TRAINER
:
You better. Make sure you run for at least thirty minutes to get into fat-burning mode. And stop eating carbs. No bread. No sugar. Do you understand me?

I understood, and I obeyed. For the next several months I worked my hardest to get weight off my body. And I actually succeeded!

When I finally went dress shopping, I was able to find a very pretty dress in what I considered a normal size, and after a near-death experience with maximum-restriction undergarments (I finally figured out how to get some oxygen to my lungs), I thought I looked like a decent bride. On the surface, that is. Under those layers, my stomach was waiting (and sagging) in the wings to make its debut. No amount of running around the track and away from Oreos had erased the evidence of pregnancy. And with the wedding right around the corner, there was nothing I could do about it.

The wedding day finally arrived. I was so excited to become Bill's wife—so utterly amazed that God had blessed me with a second chance at love. And not only was it a second chance, it was completely different from my past. A fairy tale, really.

The ceremony was perfect. Both my dad and Bill sang to me—songs they had written. My sweet Carli was the flower girl—dressed almost exactly like me. We took lots of pictures. We gave lots of hugs. We ate cake. And Bill and I waited for the moment we knew was soon to come.

Even though my body was ever so ready to become one with Bill, it didn't want to be seen. Up until that very day I had been able to stay hidden, for we had done it right. We waited (much easier said than done). But that day I would have to reveal it all, and nervous doesn't even begin to describe the way I felt.

Being the perfectly sweet man that he is, Bill insisted on carrying me into the hotel room. As he bent over to scoop me into his arms, I said a quick prayer that he wouldn't break his back, and then I sucked in my stomach (as if that would make me lighter) and hoped for the best. He actually got me over the threshold. The prayer worked.

Waiting for us ever so invitingly on a small entry table was the “honeymooner's basket.” In the center of the basket, a tall bottle of champagne stood calling my name. Oh, how I wanted to go to it and drink of its calming, confidence-boosting powers. But because my sweet virgin husband had never consumed more than a sip or two of alcohol, I didn't. I bravely plunged headlong (and sober) into my biggest fear: the bedroom.

Bill went in before me, took his tuxedo coat off and tossed it gently onto a chair. Slowly I walked toward him, heading straight to…the curtains. After positioning them in such a way as to let in the least amount of light, I turned and went for the light switch. If I was going to do this, it would have to be in the dark.

Feeling my way through the room one piece of furniture at a time, I finally found my way back to Bill. It was time. Nothing left but the big reveal.

Bracing myself for the disappointment I was certain Bill wouldn't be able to hide, I shed my wedding clothes. He watched (as well as he could in the dark), and didn't do anything…but smile.

For a magical moment in time, I was able to forget my stomach and everything else I hated about myself, and I received the love Bill had waited so long to give.

1. As Christians we're pretty good at praying the prayers that we should pray and keeping the things we're really hoping for hidden deep inside. You know what I mean, don't you? Those times when we pray, “All I want is
   Your
   will for me, God,” while we secretly hope for a second chance at love, or that baby we've been longing for, or that opportunity we've been dreaming of. These are the things we are often afraid to put words to. What is your “silent” prayer? _________________________
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2. Why do you think you've kept this prayer secret? _________________________________________________________
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   _________________________________________________________
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3. Do you think you could take a bold step in the direction of faith and put words to your prayer in the space below? (This step is for us…God kinda already knows.) _______________________________________
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4. Answer honestly: Do you think God is holding out on you? _________________________________________________________
   _________________________________________________________
   
5. If you answered “yes” to number four, what kind of God do you think would hold out on you?  _____________________________________
   _________________________________________________________
   _________________________________________________________
   _________________________________________________________
   
6. God wants us to be honest with Him. He already knows what's going on in our hearts, but sometimes we don't. In the space below, write a note to God honestly telling Him what you're afraid He's withholding from you. ________________________________________________
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