I landed at the Nashville airport at 3:35 p.m. Already things had been delayed, but miraculously, we’d landed almost on time. I prayed the shuttle I scheduled hadn’t given up on me. I ran to baggage claim feeling sleepy muscles gripe as I forced them into action.
The belt snaked slowly, finally delivering my duffle-bag. I snatched it quickly, careful not to knock anyone over, and drug it to a quiet corner to call my ride.
“Hi! I just got my bag, where should I meet you?” I tried to slow my breath.
“Ummm…,” came the slow answer. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the airport, just left baggage claim.”
“Are you kidding! There must be some mistake! I’m waiting at your house; I thought I was taking you to the airport.”
My heart sank. My house was an hour away. By the time the guy drove to the airport, picked me up and took me home, it would be at least two hours and we’d be stuck in rush hour traffic.
“Never mind,” I held back the snotty things I wanted to say. “I’ll see if I can get a cab.”
He protested loudly. “Don’t no! I’ll be there as fast as I can. I promise the guy who made this mistake will be fired. He’s done this before. Wait, please. Sorry, I’m so mad about this. I can’t believe we let you down.”
Finally, I convinced him that I wasn’t angry, but I wasn’t going to wait either. Before we hung up he promised me again, “That guy can’t do his job. He’s going to get fired.”
The conversation reminded me of a recent email from a friend. She has struggled with an eating disorder for many years but finally, freedom is drawing near as she is learning to trust Jesus more. She wrote:
“When someone doesn’t perform as expected you fire them. I had an epiphany of sorts this past week. I hate how I feel in relation to food and eating. I hate the way my body feels. I hate what I see when I look in a mirror, or try on clothes. I hate the stress I feel when we go out to eat. And it’s been that way since I was 11. But I realized I’ve been trying so hard not to feel that way by using an eating disorder and it hasn’t worked, not at all. In fact, the eating disorder is what has made me feel this way, instead of “fixing” it which is what it professes to do. The only thing I haven’t tried in order to not feel this way is throwing myself 100% into recovery. So whenever the temptation or anxiety creeps in I’ve been reminding myself that the only way out is through recovery. The only way to not hate the way eating makes me feel is to eat. And that has made all the difference this week.”
When someone doesn’t perform as expected, you fire them.
Anorexia never did for me what it promised to do. However, 1 Thessalonians 5:24 promises that there is one who will never let me down, “The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.”
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