A Spiritual View of Anorexia Nervosa

When I was given a copy of the book "Little Girl Crying" by Belinda Rose I was intimidated.  Not by the subject: anorexia nervosa and how the author came to complete healing through prayer.  I was intimidated by its length.  I wondered how I could squeeze in the time for this large book in the midst of my busy life.  I can honestly report that finding time was not a problem.  This book reads like a thriller but instead of "who done it?" the question in this fast-paced account of the causes and the struggle of anorexia is "how will she ever come out of it?"  In the course of 450 pages I came to a better understanding of anorexia and more.  Let me highlight three other lessons that can be learned by reading "Little Girl Crying."

First, the struggle with anorexia nervosa is a paradigm for all human struggle.  Deep down, in every human being, there is a hunger, a hunger to be loved, a longing to know that one is lovable.  Human loves can satisfy that hunger for a while but they do not ultimately fulfill us, for, as St. Augustine wrote: "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you."  We are made with a hunger for an infinite love that no finite, human love can satisfy.  Only God's love can because God is an infinite love by nature.  Until the author discovered this truth through contemplative prayer she continued a self-destructive cycle of binge eating and purging, always convinced that she was fat and unlovable even at 70 lbs.! Whatever one does or does not do to fill the hunger for God will fail unless God is the object of one's desire. 

Secondly, I was reminded of another book, "Legacy of the Heart: The Spiritual Advantages of a Painful Childhood" by Wayne Muller.  As a drought forces the roots of a tree to go deeper or the tree will die, so the struggles of childhood can lead one to sink deeper roots.  Deeper into what?  One's relationship with God, certainly, but also into one's relationships with others.  Belinda Rose's struggles ultimately led her into deeper relationships with her three sons, her mother, and others who struggled with psychological illnesses.  From deep pain can come, with God's saving grace, greater compassion and more joy, so much so that Rose can say, like many in 12 Step Recovery Programs, she is ultimately grateful for how her disease led her to these deeper relationships. 

Thirdly, one of the key elements of healing is forgiveness.  Past hurts can leave one bitter.  But bitter unforgiveness and resentment are the fuel that drives the engine of addictions and anorexia.  When it is not dealt with, emotional hurt festers and grows, morphing into an anger which, for those who feel vulnerable and helpless, is turned in on itself.  It's been said that resentment is like drinking from a bottle of poison and hoping that the person who hurt us will die.  As she began to deal with the painful memories that stoked her disease, Rose developed empathy.  A key moment came when she began to understand what led her father to hurt her as he had done.  She learned the truth that "hurt people hurt people."  She prayed and forgave and healed.  In time she learned to imitate Jesus in his redemptive suffering.  Jesus--totally innocent--was hurt and abused.  He suffered terribly but offered his suffering as a powerful prayer to the Father and saved the world.  Rose learned to use her sufferings for others as Jesus did. 

I highly recommend "Little Girl Crying" in order to understand anorexia nervosa and so much more.  Its lessons are universal, for hurt and the need for healing--both individually and globally--are universal. 

Our Lady of Sorrows and Us

Jesus lived, died, and rose to save the world.  But just as God invites humanity to be co-creators, sharing in the work of caring for creation, so God calls each of us to share in the work of salvation. In one sense the work of salvation is complete because of what Jesus did.  But, in another sense, it is ongoing because not everyone knows Jesus, nor has everyone accepted the salvation he won for them.  This is where we come in.  We are called to do what St. Paul said he did in his Letter to the Colossians 1: 24: "Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in the afflictions of Christ on behalf of his body, which is the church...."

It almost sounds as though Paul is saying that what Jesus did was not sufficient, but he would never say that.  We ought to read this passage in light of St. Paul's other writings, in particular, what he says about the Body of Christ in 1 Corinthians 12.  Christ is the Head of the Body.  We are members of the Body, joined to Christ.  What Christ has done, we the Body are now called to do.  When we join our sufferings to the perfect offering of Christ on the cross and at Mass, we play a role in the ongoing work of salvation.

Mary is our model in this.  "Lumen Gentium," the Vatican Council II document on the Church, quotes St. Ambrose and states that "the Mother of God is a type of the Church" (#63).  She stood under the cross of Jesus and did not scream or try to stop the soldiers from crucifying her own flesh and blood. She shared in her Son’s faith that this act of violence would not be the end, that somehow God would bring great good from it, that God was saving the world through it.  She had great faith, but it didn’t take away her own pain and sorrow.

We are called to have that same faith when it comes to our own sufferings.  In "The Joy of the Gospel" Pope Francis wrote these encouraging words: "No single act of love for God will be lost, no generous effort is meaningless, no painful endurance is wasted.  All of these encircle our world like a vital force" (#279).