It was fifth grade the first time I remember being called “fat.” It was in Ms. Golden’s music class. We were watching a show, maybe Tom & Jerry, and a big policeman came on the scene.
“Look, it’s Shelby,” Josh said. I remember the feeling of wishing I could crawl into the deepest hole and cry as I heard a few kids laugh.
But you’re tough, you don’t cry. You don’t show weakness, I told myself.
I rolled my eyes and ignored him, while also ignoring those emotions.
After that, I discovered the lie I thought would save me from experiencing that embarrassment ever again: our bodies are meant for one thing and one thing only — to be thin.
If I get thin in middle school, I won’t get made fun of again.
If I get thin in junior high, I’ll get to be popular.
If I get thin for that soccer coach, he’ll stop asking me if I need another Dr. Pepper or Ding Dong in front of everyone at practice when I miss a shot on goal.
If I get thin for that boy, he’ll want to keep me as his girlfriend.
If I get thin for speaking on stage, people will trust what I say more.
The voice telling me to get thin never seemed to go away. In fact, it seemed to get louder, more aggressive, and more demeaning the older I got.
I left Josh’s voice back in fifth grade, but there was always someone new to pick up the baton.
Today, that voice has adapted and shifted to become my own. I don’t need anyone to tell me the importance of being thin — I tell myself every time I look into the mirror.
The lies we learn to believe as women grow deep roots inside our souls. They might tell us to hate our bodies, we’re “too much” for people, we’re too dumb to accomplish anything, we’re beyond repair, or we’re always just shy of the “good enough” mark.
Those roots feel impossible to pull up. Sure, they’re easy to cut at the surface, but uprooting for good? How would we ever be able to do that?
I’m reminded of a Psalm that many of us have seen many, many times. So many times, in fact, that I had missed its power.
“I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” Psalm 139:14
“Fearfully” here means “to inspire awe.”
“Wonderfully” here comes from a root word that means, “to be extraordinary, beyond comprehension, set apart.” In scripture, this word is often used to describe God’s marvelous works. Do you know who that includes?
You. You were created to inspire awe. You were created to be set apart.
Does that Biblical truth align with the lie you might believe about yourself right now?
2 Corinthians 10:5 says, “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”
When we allow His light to expose all of those dark lies, we find freedom.
However, it can be a lot of work to constantly pick out the lies that intrude on our soul. But guess what? You have put in a lot of work to survive up until this point, and I wish you could get an award on the grandest stage for what you have fought through in your life. You have put in so many grueling hours to make it to the point where you are now. You should feel so proud. But, I know you have more fight in you. God didn’t ask you to just survive. He has called us to an abundant life with Him, and that starts with demolishing those lies.
Sometimes, demolishing those lies means letting go of relationships that feed the very lie.
Sometimes, it’s deleting social media.
Whatever it is, whatever loss you experience through this process, I know God will fill every gap and void with something even greater.
My prayer is that God would cover you first with His presence and comfort as you learn to take every lie captive and lay it before the Lord. When you feel the “not good enough” lie creep in, I pray you would lean on the Holy Spirit’s discernment and wisdom, His grace and love for you, and learn to accept and fully embrace the person He created in you.
Remember this:
“God saw all that He had made, and it was very good.” Genesis 1:31
That includes you.
The lie that started with someone else’s voice now gets to end with His.
This is adapted from “Lily Pads” by Shelby Gardner.
{If you enjoyed this blog post, you might also like this episode of The Love Offering Podcast, where Rachael chats with Morgan Krueger about her book, Made to Magnify: Choosing to Live for Jesus When Everything Tells You to Live for Yourself. Their conversation was a refreshing reminder that we were never created to carry the burden of making ourselves great. We were created to magnify the One who already is. You can listen to the episode here.}
About the Author:
Shelby Gardner is the author of Lily Pads: A Heart Study and the voice behind The Lily Letters, a weekly devotional letter. She spent seven years in ministry before becoming a writer and speaker, and she brings that same heart for women into everything she does. She speaks and writes about the hard seasons that grew her — faith, marriage, identity, and finding Jesus in the mess before it gets cleaned up. She lives in Glenpool, Oklahoma with her husband and two spitfire daughters. Find her at shelbygardner.com.
