Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Journey Toward Healing Part IV- Baring It All
There's a girl in the corner
With tear stains on her eyes
From the places she's wandered
And the shame she can't hide
She says, "How did I get here?
I'm not who I once was
And I'm crippled by the fear
That I've fallen too far to love"
But don't you know who you are?
What's been done for you?
Yeah don't you know who you are
You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade
Well she tries to believe it
That she's been given new life
But she can't shake the feeling
That it's not true tonight
She knows all the answers
And she's rehearsed all the lines
And so she'll try to do better
But then she's too weak to try
But don't you know who you are?
You are more than the choices that you've made You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade
You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade
'Cause this is not about what you've done
But what's been done for you
This is not about where you've been
But where your brokenness brings you to
This is not about what you feel
But what He felt to forgive you
And what He felt to make you loved
You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade- by Tenth Avenue North
When I told my daughter that I would be flying to Florida to attend a workshop, of sorts, on anxiety, she said "you are so lucky-you get to go to Florida to take a class? Are you kidding me?" Six months of the
Pittsburgh winter blues had left us all pretty jaded and desperate I'm afraid. Myself and the kids, alike. Ironically, however, the intensity of the work over the weekend did not allow for any real free-time to enjoy the Southern climate. Most of the hours I was at the center, I was indoors, with the exception of our lunch outings and when working on our dreamboards in the backyard.
Friday morning, when I stepped out of my hotel room, toward the parking lot, to meet my ride, I was nearly knocked over by a wave of heat- it was already ninety degrees and it was only 9:30. I was wearing a sweater (A SWEATER, PEOPLE) because I'd been warned that the center, where the workshop was held, could get pretty chilly. Honestly, though, I was happy to cover up my arms- they were flabby and jiggly and embarrassing to me. Most people who are overweight don't wear tank tops. We hide ourselves, clothed in self-loathing, and in attire unfit for the warm weather.
An amazing thing happened though, shortly after I arrived and began my "work." I took off the sweater, because, while everyone else in the room was covered in blankets and freezing, I was sweating. As a result, I spent the rest of my time there in tank tops. At first it was because I was uncomfortably warm, but eventually, it was a conscious choice- a movement of my mind toward freedom. I was completely free of the prison of self-consciousness that normally plagues me. I stopped caring about my body because what I was experiencing and learning there, and what I was contributing to the group, had nothing to do with my outward appearance. My beauty and value ventured forth from within, as did that of everyone around me. The sweater never left my suitcase after that.
God is really kind of funny, such a distinguishable sense of humor. Not only did he ensure that I wasn't disturbed by the chill in the room where I spent most of my time, he also distracted me long enough to allow me to forget my bag of make-up at home. I had nothing to hide behind for three days. I wasn't going to be allowed to sulk beneath the web of shame that normally surrounds me- like he knew I'd come too far to hold anything back.
I needed to be naked in my flaws in order to heal them and I felt nothing but love.
With tear stains on her eyes
From the places she's wandered
And the shame she can't hide
She says, "How did I get here?
I'm not who I once was
And I'm crippled by the fear
That I've fallen too far to love"
But don't you know who you are?
What's been done for you?
Yeah don't you know who you are
You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade
Well she tries to believe it
That she's been given new life
But she can't shake the feeling
That it's not true tonight
She knows all the answers
And she's rehearsed all the lines
And so she'll try to do better
But then she's too weak to try
But don't you know who you are?
You are more than the choices that you've made You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade
You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade
'Cause this is not about what you've done
But what's been done for you
This is not about where you've been
But where your brokenness brings you to
This is not about what you feel
But what He felt to forgive you
And what He felt to make you loved
You are more than the choices that you've made
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes
You are more than the problems you create
You've been remade- by Tenth Avenue North
When I told my daughter that I would be flying to Florida to attend a workshop, of sorts, on anxiety, she said "you are so lucky-you get to go to Florida to take a class? Are you kidding me?" Six months of the
![]() |
| one of the few pictures of me in a tank top- neighborhood moms-first day of school 2010 |
Friday morning, when I stepped out of my hotel room, toward the parking lot, to meet my ride, I was nearly knocked over by a wave of heat- it was already ninety degrees and it was only 9:30. I was wearing a sweater (A SWEATER, PEOPLE) because I'd been warned that the center, where the workshop was held, could get pretty chilly. Honestly, though, I was happy to cover up my arms- they were flabby and jiggly and embarrassing to me. Most people who are overweight don't wear tank tops. We hide ourselves, clothed in self-loathing, and in attire unfit for the warm weather.
An amazing thing happened though, shortly after I arrived and began my "work." I took off the sweater, because, while everyone else in the room was covered in blankets and freezing, I was sweating. As a result, I spent the rest of my time there in tank tops. At first it was because I was uncomfortably warm, but eventually, it was a conscious choice- a movement of my mind toward freedom. I was completely free of the prison of self-consciousness that normally plagues me. I stopped caring about my body because what I was experiencing and learning there, and what I was contributing to the group, had nothing to do with my outward appearance. My beauty and value ventured forth from within, as did that of everyone around me. The sweater never left my suitcase after that.
God is really kind of funny, such a distinguishable sense of humor. Not only did he ensure that I wasn't disturbed by the chill in the room where I spent most of my time, he also distracted me long enough to allow me to forget my bag of make-up at home. I had nothing to hide behind for three days. I wasn't going to be allowed to sulk beneath the web of shame that normally surrounds me- like he knew I'd come too far to hold anything back.
I needed to be naked in my flaws in order to heal them and I felt nothing but love.
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About Me
- Judy Sombar
- Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States
- Forty-three year-old, mother and staunch advocate of four young children, passionate warrior of truth and self, finding the soul in each day, sharing my struggles and triumphs as I live them. Mostly I do this for me, so my thoughts don't race as much at night as they used to. But I also give this to those of you who need to know, in any or every way, that you are not alone.
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- "Mommy- Dis My Fay-writ Birtday Ever"
- A Letter To My Four Year-Old Son
- Journey Toward Healing Part V- The Eyes of Love
- Journey Toward Healing Part IV- Baring It All
- I Support Gay and Lesbian Civil Rights
- Journey Toward Healing Part III- Dream Weaver
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