We will be resuming back to praying together using the MIP prayer sheet. Our last prayer sheet was on 6/22/22 and according to my notebook log, the prayer theme was “God is Our Joy.” Wow that’s my new word of the year too! My new year follows the academic calendar just like the schools. I’ve prayed and sought the Holy Spirit about my word throughout the summer, and the word is JOY! The bible verse given to me for my word is from the book of Zephaniah.

Zephaniah 3:17 (AMP) – The Lord your God is in your midst, A Warrior who saves.
He will rejoice over you with joy;
He will be quiet in His love [making no mention of your past sins], He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy.

As I was adding my new word of the year on my phone notes and another notebook 📔, I noted that it was the least foreboding or challenging word to date. 😃

Last academic year was traumatizing for sure as I was witnessing my Alex almost being demon-possessed and losing her mind. Plus to send her off to college faraway in her condition felt so wrong and even professionals also shared their great concerns with me. Yet I had to trust God and release her as I was certain that is what He was telling me to do. Boy, did she receive many prayers and even more still! What a prayed upon child. This momma bear ain’t shy asking for prayers for her child in distress!

Alex currently is taking antidepressants at college, a lowest dose of Prozac generic brand. It was her decision and initiative. I’ve been praying about it and I have peace about her decision too. She is receiving amazing care and attention at her university’s health center by her dietitian, therapist and psychiatrist. This is all God who is orchestrating so much favor and care for Alex on account of many good believers praying for her.

Yesterday I had breakfast with a young lady, Louise who came into my life as soon as I joined my church community and the moms-in-prayer group. She was battling a serious case of eating disorder for several years and almost died. I was part of the many moms who were praying for her and we formed a friendship. She told me that she also took antidepressants for a season and that it helped her.

Today she is happily married to a wonderful and handsome Christian husband and they are expecting a baby boy in November! I am so happy for them. God has surely answered all our prayers for this young lady. Amazing. She openly shared her story on Facebook in 2015 during Eating Disorder Awareness Week. Here is her story:

“I wear purple because my heart can smile again. It smiles a smile that radiates joy from my whole being – not one that stops at the surface of my lips, indicative of those smiles I plastered on my face for eight years in a desperate attempt to convince others that “I’m fine.” Diagnosed with Anorexia Nervosa at age 11, I spent a year in treatment centers before I got my first momentary taste of freedom. However, by age 14 I was in full-blown relapse again, and a summer away only subdued my symptoms to a barely manageable level for the next two years. Right before my senior year of high school, at 16, I gave up fighting the voices in my head and resolved to take comfort in the empty promises of my eating disorder. I lasted almost a year in residential treatment before insurance ran out, after which I made an active attempt to end my life, landing me in the ICU for 5 weeks. The cycle of treatment/ go-home-and-restrict saw its full force the year before I turned 18. When power was finally in my hands as a legal adult, I signed myself out of the hospital AMA. I’d had enough. I arrived home and consumed nothing but tea and water for weeks – it was as though I had developed an allergy to calories. All I could think about was the food I denied myself and how much energy every step took. Walking to the mailbox became a torturous task. Walking up steps sent my heart racing out of my chest. Just lifting my arms to brush my hair was sometimes impossible. But I never fainted, never blacked out, never lost mobility, so I convinced myself that I was alright. I was alright. I was alright. The insurmountable sacrifices my family made for me emotionally, mentally, financially, and time-wise weighed heavy on my shoulders. I was done. I wanted it all to end.

My parents, though, refused to let me “be done” and went through the process of obtaining my medical rights. Vehemently against my will I landed back in treatment, still determined not to put a morsel of food in my body. I was a nightmare of a patient. Even on bed rest, with 1:1 observation, hooked up to an NG tube, prohibited from communicating with other patients, I found ways to prevent those disgusting calories from entering my body. But I was broken. With nothing besides white walls to stare at, some 1000 piece puzzles to solve, and a bible by my side, I was trapped. I saw no way out.
You see, it was all about control. I simply wanted to be in control of some aspect of my life, merely wanted some identity to claim. I’m not kind, selfless, smart, athletic, pretty, or outgoing. I don’t believe I’m particularly “good” at anything. Listening to the commands of anorexia made me feel powerful – a sensation that overwhelmed all guilt and shame that accompanied my eating disorder behaviors. Yet this false sense of purpose, of control, was constantly being taken away from me. Now, in my solitary isolation, I was given an ultimatum: willingly allow nourishment to enter my body, or be strapped to a bed and be forced to endure the same fate.

Faith. My faith had always given me comfort, but with only a bible at hand I found myself reading the words more closely, praying more frequently. I finally decided on the first option, honestly and whole-heartedly this time.
By the grace of God, the support of those close to me, and the help of my peers more so than any professional, I began my sincere journey to recovery. Two-and-a-half years now I have been symptom free. For me, recovery does not mean that I am cured of negative thoughts and poor self-esteem, but rather that I choose to turn down the volume of those voices and constructively redirect the wheels churning in my brain.

And so, I wear purple today because hope is tangible. I wear purple because I want to be a role model to my siblings, and a good daughter to my parents. I wear purple for all my friends, old and new. I wear purple because I am sophomore at NYU, and violet is our color. I wear purple because I have an amazing boyfriend, and eating is an enjoyable part of our relationship (and any healthy one at that!). I wear purple because chocolate is yummy and I should never feel the need to turn it down. I wear purple because I am living proof that recovery is possible, and that’s worth smiling about.”

Seeing her brought me so much joy yesterday. God is indeed a warrior who hears our prayers and saves us.

Zephaniah 3:17 (AMP) – The Lord your God is in your midst, A Warrior who saves.
He will rejoice over you with joy;
He will be quiet in His love [making no mention of your past sins], He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy.