Saundra MD Dalton-Smith - Set Free to Live Free: Breaking Through the 7 Lies Women Tell Themselves

2011 by Saundra Dalton-Smith

Published by Revell

a division of Baker Publishing Group

P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287

www.revellbooks.com

E-book edition created 2011

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

ISBN 978-1-4412-3258-8

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture is taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

Scripture marked AMP is taken from the Amplified Bible, Copyright 1954, 1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.

Scripture marked ASV is taken from the American Standard Version of the Bible.

Scripture marked CEV is taken from the Contemporary English Version 1991, 1992, 1995 by American Bible Society. Used by permission.

Scripture marked KJV is taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Scripture marked Message is taken from The Message by Eugene H. Peterson, copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. All rights reserved.

Scripture marked NCV is taken from the New Century Version. Copyright 1987, 1988, 1991 by Word Publishing, a division of Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture marked NIV is taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version. NIV. Copyright 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com

Scripture marked NKJV is taken from the New King James Version. Copyright 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

To Fannie Mitchell and Emily Dalton,

you have both helped to heal the

pain of losing my mother at an early age.

It has been your faith that has shown me

the importance of believing and the healing power of love.

There are numerous people without whose support and assistance I could not have written this book. First, I would like to thank the many patients who allow me to be a part of their lives. I have taken the utmost care to preserve the confidential information with which you have entrusted me by altering the names and details of each case. Your triumphs are my motivation to see others free.

I am very grateful to my agent, Les Stobbe, for helping me dig deep to write the book only you can write. You will never know how that one statement changed the whole way I look at writing.

A big thank you goes to Linda Nathan for editing the entire manuscript in an early draft. Your ability to retain the heart of the message while polishing grammar and flow is priceless.

My deepest appreciation to Baker Publishing Group for making this book a reality. A special thanks to Vicki Crumpton and Revell for shepherding this project to completion.

Last but hardly least, my heartfelt thanks go to my family. To my husband, Bobby, for his constant support and encouragement. And to our children, Tristan and Isaiahyour smiling faces, hugs, and affection make each day worth living to the fullest.

Strange Medicine

Is this the last patient? I asked my nurse, Shannon.

The lingering caffeine high of my morning coffee pushed me toward completing the morning roster of patients. I flipped through the notes for my patient in exam room seventeen. What is her complaint?

She says shes here for a checkup, nothing more, Shannon offered as she collected charts from the finished bin.

I may be able to have lunch with my husband today , I thought as I walked through the door, unaware that the next few minutes would change how I practice medicine.

I dont know why Im here, Cameron sputtered, her words racing out in one breath. I thought maybe there would be something that could help me. I should probably leave before I waste any more of your time.

Camerons thirty-eight-year-old frame was ample but carried a heaviness that had nothing to do with physical weight. This was her third office visit with me. The first two were basic visits detailing her general health issues. High blood pressure, headaches, and weight were her main areas of concern. Nothing about her prior visits prepared me for this one. The atmosphere around todays visit had a tangible charge that threatened to ignite at any moment.

Why dont you tell me whats going on. Who knowsmaybe I will be able to help. Youll never know unless you give me a chance. I smiled patiently.

I think Im depressed, Cameron confessed. I just dont find any happiness in my life anymore. It seems that everyone else is enjoying their life while I just exist day-to-day.

I understand, I said with empathy.

How could you possibly understand? she spat out with a shudder in her voice. A single tear betrayed the personal boundaries she attempted to maintain. Youve got it all! How can you possibly understand what it feels like to go to bed beside a man who doesnt find you physically attractive? How could you know what its like to feel like an outsider, like you are not good enough? When I pick up my kids at school all the other women look at me like Im worthless, like Im not even visible.

Self-pity moved into open anger as her voice rose with each word. I just dont see the point of even trying. Nothing I do is ever good enough. I try to be like those other women. I really do want to lose weight, but its just not easy for me. I dont know what I am doing wrong. Why cant I be happy and have friends like everyone else? Why does my life have to be so hard?

By now Cameron had relinquished all pretense of control, and the tears flowed freely down her face. Years of frustration washed out of her psyche, if only for those few brief moments of transparency. The intimacy of the emotions on display was in direct contrast to the coldness of the small medical exam room. I placed my hand on Camerons shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. But before I could speak she shrugged off my gesture and said, I dont need your pity.

Camerons eyes never left the ground. I realized that throughout our whole interaction she had not looked directly at me, not even once. She sat with her hands in her lap, silent. Not a glance in my direction. Fortunately, Cameron was my last patient for that morning and had happened into my life at a time when I actually could help her, but not in the way she expected.

No, you dont need my pity; you are doing a good job pitying yourself, I said with a calmness that surprised even me. I didnt say it to be spiteful but just as a matter of fact.

My statement caught Cameron off guard. Her eyes were like large brown marbles, glossy from the pain they echoed. Obviously I had hit a soft spot, and in her fragile state she was not able to contain herself. It was as if in one sharp blow I cut through the fragments that held her together. The sobs that left her body caused her entire being to shake from the force.