“My name is Valentine, and yes, that’s my real name.” It’s the tag line that somehow always escapes my mouth when meeting new people. Its usually met with great curiosity, but it’s almost always followed up with, “I won’t forget that!” It’s true. I leave a lasting impression. Yet it’s not because of my name, rather it’s because of my appearance. Having struggled with disordered eating and a good deal of deep brokenness my whole life, I bear the remnant of a life of sin experienced and sin responses lived out in a battle of Goliath proportions with disordered eating. Let’s simplify that.

I am fat.

I am a fat Biblical Counselor. Which oozes irony and dare I say, beauty at the same time. I am invisible and I am too visible. Yet obesity, in its humbling nature has given me an approachability in counseling that always points to the power of a good and redemptive Savior.

She told me I was the easiest person to talk to. She had seen psychotherapists and counselors her whole life, spent time in a facility for suicide attempts, self harm, behavioral issues and had medication prescribed since she was a child. By the time we met, she had learned the system and was suspicious of the helpers in her life. Yet once we met to get to know each other, she said I was the easiest person to talk to because of my own transparency. She said she was thankful for my own story that I wear on my body, much like her own arms told her story.

As we continued to meet, it was a very real blessing to watch her grow as she was slowly encountering the God of all transformation and redemption. As she worked out her misunderstandings of the word and the gospel, I began to recall some of my own lessons when my ministry first began. The feelings of inadequacy, the shame of wearing the effects of sin on the outside, where everyone else gets to conceal their sin on the inside. I can’t recall all of the times, days, months, years that I lamented my misfortune to have the burden of this body that I felt imprisoned by. I can remember back at the beginning of my ministry and the Lord making it very clear to me, that I was to live out my struggle with food and weight in front of people. My journey was to be public. I had no option.

Now that can sound harsh and even cruel on the Lords behalf. I am not trying to speak for Him or represent Him terribly, rather I hope you’d understand the beauty and depth of a Heavenly Father that knows what I need in order to grow in sanctification, devotion and dependence. After years of fighting it, my world was changed when I surrendered to it.

So here I am. I’ve been working out my salvation with fear and trembling. Fighting the demons that have kept me in a vulnerable place in front of others for so long. I can tell you about the significant weight loss I’ve had. I can tell you that the Lord has healed so much of my disordered worship. I can share all the ways the Lord has changed me and transformed me. But in all honesty, you wouldn’t believe it, because all of that transformation lies within the chains of a body that remains yet to be fully changed. You cannot see my heart, so you do not know that it was once a heart of stone that the Lord has turned into a heart of flesh.

Likewise most people may not be able to understand how the Lord has used my own brokenness to His glory, while living life on life and sharing the hope I so vulnerably am also holding onto.

She shared her darkest secrets with me because she knew I had tasted that darkness as well. She knew her arms matched mine. She knew by looking at my wretched body that her deepest and scariest plea for death and for that pain to stop, was something I too could share about. My own story of pain and desperation was written on the walls of this ugly, prison like body that has kept me weak and in need of the Savior who is ever present in the daily minutia as well as on those cold, lonely fractured nights where a blade is the only [counterfeit] relief one knows.

My broken body told her that I was safe. An ally, a partner, a mess too. And it was everything her hurting heart needed. An approachable heart.

Something terrible happens in ministry when we forget that we’re the tax collector beating his chest and take the role of the judging Pharisee (Luke 18:13). In counseling others, we forget that what we say isn’t as important as how we make others feel. No, I’m not saying feelings matter most, but I am saying that the ministry of presence is what Biblical Counseling is about. Jesus modeled a ministry of soul care that was all about Him being present for those who were hurting. When we separate ourselves from those we serve, we’re no longer efficient.

The one sentence I tell my counselees more than anything else is that there is no difference between them and me. The women experiencing homelessness, the woman coming out of rape, intimate partner violence, gambling, smoking, drinking, sexual addiction, drug issues, she and I are the same. She wears the sin she struggles with, mostly on the inside. I wear the sin I struggle with mostly on the outside. And together we are just sisters pursuing wholeness in the only One who can judge, transform and fully heal. The ministry of approachability is not to hinder the growth of the counselee. Rather, if a counselee is met with the transparency of brokenness, and vulnerability, they can come to understand that they too can be equipped to share their story of transformation which unites them to the ultimate story and the Author of hope, transformation and best of all, redemption.

A quick note about obesity: I am not in any way giving approval for sinful behavior that leads to unhealthy lifestyles. The truth is that we do not know peoples stories. We do not know if someone is overweight because of a medical issue, medication, abuse, neglect, abandonment, gluttony, disordered eating, fear, etc. I can only speak for myself and share my own story of being convicted for the sin of gluttony, regardless of the motives or trauma endured. I can share about my own repentance, and choosing to walk in obedience daily, although I stumble and sometimes fall very hard. I can only speak for myself. So let’s be clear, that I am not condoning one body type over another. Jesus doesn’t care about my physical appearance. But I do believe he cares about the motives and intentions of my behavior. If that sounds confusing, stick around. I fully intend to chew this fat with you my friend.

More on that later…