Consider Mark 10:17-21.
Are you a good citizen? When did you last commit a felony? A misdemeanor? An act of moral turpitude? If you did one out of character act in your youth you may still be wracked with guilt over it. A serious act of misconduct would probably result in terminal remorse. So. You’re a good Christian, right?
The answer is yes! You’re a good person, a person who believes in Christ, a good Christian. Right? Right!
Do you feel like it? Probably not. Even if you don’t murder, refrain from adultery, avoid taking anybody else’s stuff, even to the extent of taking back what you accidentally carry off—if you like the rich young ruler have dutifully obeyed the commandments since your youth, you know something’s lacking. “What must I do?” is your earnest prayer.
Don’t assume because of Jesus’ answer voluntary poverty is the answer. Don’t assume the rich cannot find the presence of the Kingdom of God. Look deeper at what’s happening. Jesus knew the man standing before him, knew his Achilles heel. The man’s wealth was more important to him than the peace and joy he sought. He was willing to follow Jesus but on his own terms, not of Jesus’. He couldn’t relinquish all. He could only relinquish most.
Don’t ask God to be your assistant. Don’t seek God as an equal partner. Don’t buy into the “God is my co-pilot” crowd. Make yourself God’s assistant, his employee, his co-pilot.
If you had the conversation with God, asking him what you had to do to find this peace of heart that can take the place of food in your life, what answer would you fear most? What would make you tremble if God suggested it had to go? Your reputation? Your intelligence? Educational status? Financial security? What would you not be willing to give up to be slim?
Friday, November 9, 2007
A Kids' Meal God
Consider 1 Cor. 13:10-12.
My friend Karen is a writer, editor, publicist, a worker with words. Mid-thirties and a mother herself, she's made a discovery. The mother she knew as a breadwinner, disciplinarian, and homemaker writes as well! Karen has seen how even the discipline--copying words and definitions from the dictionary--and certainly the books they shared were tools in skillful hands developing potential with an oh-so-gentle touch.
I've recently come to an understanding of my own mother. A talented, intelligent woman, except for brief periods in protected environments, she had lived with her parents or with her husband for thirty years before I was born. That birth marked a turning point and found her far from home with an infant and a four-year-old, my father traveling from Monday morning until Friday evening. Two years later, another baby arrived. She is and was a good mother, but overwhelmed and insecure, she passed on to me not only her talents and intellect but self-doubt.
In 1952 J. B. Phillips' Your God is Too Small was published. It's been reprinted, the latest being 2004. The book was a classic by the time I read it in the early 70's, and I particularly remember a passage about whether or not God understands radar. Maybe today the question is microchips or nuclear fission or how to program a DVD recorder. The answer, no matter what the question, is "of course." But that's not the question or the answer. The question is What is your understanding of God? Like Karen, do you assume you're the first to write poems, that the concept would be foreign to your parent? Is the God of your understanding the one you met in Sunday School, sitting on a rug at the teacher's feet? Just how big is your God?
In restaurants, given the chose of regular sized, child sized, or supersized, all too often we compulsive overeaters have chosen to supersize. Twice. Maybe the smaller portion meal makes more sense for us. But if you're stuck with a child-sized God because you never looked at him again after you learned everything you needed to know about him--It's time to supersize.
Consider the prayers of Tevye, the Jewish lead character in Fiddler on the Roof. He asks impertinent questions, such as, "Dear God. Was that necessary? Did you have to make him lame just before the Sabbath? That wasn't nice. It's enough you pick on me. Bless me with five daughters, a life of poverty, that's all right. But what have you got against my horse?" If you were as blunt as Tevye, what would you say to God? What would he answer back to you? Write it down.
My friend Karen is a writer, editor, publicist, a worker with words. Mid-thirties and a mother herself, she's made a discovery. The mother she knew as a breadwinner, disciplinarian, and homemaker writes as well! Karen has seen how even the discipline--copying words and definitions from the dictionary--and certainly the books they shared were tools in skillful hands developing potential with an oh-so-gentle touch.
I've recently come to an understanding of my own mother. A talented, intelligent woman, except for brief periods in protected environments, she had lived with her parents or with her husband for thirty years before I was born. That birth marked a turning point and found her far from home with an infant and a four-year-old, my father traveling from Monday morning until Friday evening. Two years later, another baby arrived. She is and was a good mother, but overwhelmed and insecure, she passed on to me not only her talents and intellect but self-doubt.
In 1952 J. B. Phillips' Your God is Too Small was published. It's been reprinted, the latest being 2004. The book was a classic by the time I read it in the early 70's, and I particularly remember a passage about whether or not God understands radar. Maybe today the question is microchips or nuclear fission or how to program a DVD recorder. The answer, no matter what the question, is "of course." But that's not the question or the answer. The question is What is your understanding of God? Like Karen, do you assume you're the first to write poems, that the concept would be foreign to your parent? Is the God of your understanding the one you met in Sunday School, sitting on a rug at the teacher's feet? Just how big is your God?
In restaurants, given the chose of regular sized, child sized, or supersized, all too often we compulsive overeaters have chosen to supersize. Twice. Maybe the smaller portion meal makes more sense for us. But if you're stuck with a child-sized God because you never looked at him again after you learned everything you needed to know about him--It's time to supersize.
Consider the prayers of Tevye, the Jewish lead character in Fiddler on the Roof. He asks impertinent questions, such as, "Dear God. Was that necessary? Did you have to make him lame just before the Sabbath? That wasn't nice. It's enough you pick on me. Bless me with five daughters, a life of poverty, that's all right. But what have you got against my horse?" If you were as blunt as Tevye, what would you say to God? What would he answer back to you? Write it down.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
So Who Is God?
Consider Exodus 3:13-14
Have you ever met a celebrity? Once I sat beside a U.S. Senator at lunch. He had no intention of being involved in conversation, of acknowledging the peons around him other than demanding the oversight of his not having received a slice of pie be rectified, and immediately! I made a nametag for another senator and misspelled her name, much to her disgust and my chagrin.
George W. Bush was different. In his gratitude for the background work I’d done, setting up the room, etc., he kissed my cheek. A couple of weeks later I stood in a coliseum full of people listening to him. As he walked past me leaving through the crowd, he recognized me, calling me by my title. Then he said he wanted Laura to meet me, having some helpers bring her forward.
When people step out of the newspapers and off the TV screens into your life, they’re real. Some such experiences please; others disgust. But the person on the TV or in newsprint never stops being real after the experience.
I’ve always known God through the Bible, the pictures, the sermons. I’d studied New Testament Greek so I could read the original text. I’d taught Sunday school, and instructed the teachers, and I’d even preached twice. I brought a thorough understanding of the Bible, from historical, theological, and archaeological aspects.
Then he stepped off the pages and into my life. He’ll never be the same. He is. He is real. He is vital, caring, present, understanding, compassionate, accepting. He is love. Love I’ve never before known from any source.
Now that I’ve met God, who is Love, though, I find love all around me.
In the past I believed God performed miracles. I found myself entranced by stories of my own great grandfather’s faith great enough to heal people. And mules. But as strong as my belief in God’s awesome power had been, the power became real and personal for me on December 17, 2006.
That’s when I knew he not only had performed miracles in the past but that he could and would accept my burdens and relieve me of the insanity of my life. That’s the day I stopped turning to food for comfort, for I met comfort himself.
Who is your God? How well do you know him? Can he meet the needs that drive you crazy? What kind of God do you want? What do you want him to do for you? Write it out. God can climb out of the box you may have found him in and into your life.
Have you ever met a celebrity? Once I sat beside a U.S. Senator at lunch. He had no intention of being involved in conversation, of acknowledging the peons around him other than demanding the oversight of his not having received a slice of pie be rectified, and immediately! I made a nametag for another senator and misspelled her name, much to her disgust and my chagrin.
George W. Bush was different. In his gratitude for the background work I’d done, setting up the room, etc., he kissed my cheek. A couple of weeks later I stood in a coliseum full of people listening to him. As he walked past me leaving through the crowd, he recognized me, calling me by my title. Then he said he wanted Laura to meet me, having some helpers bring her forward.
When people step out of the newspapers and off the TV screens into your life, they’re real. Some such experiences please; others disgust. But the person on the TV or in newsprint never stops being real after the experience.
I’ve always known God through the Bible, the pictures, the sermons. I’d studied New Testament Greek so I could read the original text. I’d taught Sunday school, and instructed the teachers, and I’d even preached twice. I brought a thorough understanding of the Bible, from historical, theological, and archaeological aspects.
Then he stepped off the pages and into my life. He’ll never be the same. He is. He is real. He is vital, caring, present, understanding, compassionate, accepting. He is love. Love I’ve never before known from any source.
Now that I’ve met God, who is Love, though, I find love all around me.
In the past I believed God performed miracles. I found myself entranced by stories of my own great grandfather’s faith great enough to heal people. And mules. But as strong as my belief in God’s awesome power had been, the power became real and personal for me on December 17, 2006.
That’s when I knew he not only had performed miracles in the past but that he could and would accept my burdens and relieve me of the insanity of my life. That’s the day I stopped turning to food for comfort, for I met comfort himself.
Who is your God? How well do you know him? Can he meet the needs that drive you crazy? What kind of God do you want? What do you want him to do for you? Write it out. God can climb out of the box you may have found him in and into your life.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
I give up.
"I give up." A year ago I would have told you those words reflected defeat. Now I know they bring freedom, victory, peace, serenity, joy, and sanity. Blessed sanity. And weight loss is an exciting byproduct of sanity! But first, surrender is necessary--and oh so positive!!!
Consider David when finally confronted with the question, "What have you done?" (I Samuel 1:1-13a) David knew God. He had been chosen by God to be king over Israel. Together they had confronted the world, and David knew what it was to depend of God's guidance. He forgot. He was king, and he decided he could make decisions and run things. He did a lousy job of it. He and Bathsheba bore the consequences of their actions in the loss of the child of their misconduct. David repented completely, but having faced his failure accepted with it the aftermath. Don't you suspect he had many sleepless nights during his misconduct? Don't you know he would have expected God to have been as kind to him as he was to Uriah the Hittite? The consequences were dire, but they were out in the open, not the fear of the unknown, and now he could move forward, no longer relying on his decision-making abilities but again turning to God.
My life was unmanageable. My misdeeds weren't as dramatic as David's, but they abounded and they haunted me. I was intelligent, educated, a natural leader. For what reason would I expect not to be able to do what other people were doing? Like eating sanely. Like gaining the respect of those closest to me. Like living a meaningful life, not just existing, an automaton drearily plodding through the assigned tasks. Why could I not love and be loved? What was wrong with me?
What I hated most was for someone to say, "I don't know how you do all the things you do." I felt so false, so bogus. I wasted hours every day, avoiding doing what needed to be done, then rushed through the tasks when the deadline loomed and facing them was easier than facing myself, a failure once again.
My life was out of control, both in eating and in every other area. I had to have help. I needed sanity.
This morning I experienced a wave of the old madness. Nothing major was wrong. I had finished a massive project yesterday and felt pride in the product and the growth experience. But the bathroom scales didn't dip as far as I had hoped, and Tuesdays I normally go weigh "officially." What if my landmark 100 pounds off from last week no longer existed? The tank was low, so I stopped for gas, more expensive than the last two weeks. I should have bought yesterday or the day before. The car wash code I'd bought a week ago was rejected. Turning left against rush hour traffic seemed senseless, so I drove right then turned around.
Suddenly, with no more justification than that, the old insanity washed over me, that longing that in the past on virtually every day had sent me to the donut shop for an apple fritter. I'd tapered off and more recently the need had been treated to a weight-loss bar instead, but still, that was feeding the beast, and it was insanity. I didn't fall prey to it today. I know the urge came in part because this devotional needed writing and I'd asked God's help on it last night. I've drunk 3 cups of coffee since then, but ingested no calories.
Again, I accept my insanity, I accept my inability to control my own life and even what I put in my mouth. I give up. And I thank God for his willingness to pick up the responsibility.
How do you feel the insanity? Write about what you've tried to manage and cannot.
Consider David when finally confronted with the question, "What have you done?" (I Samuel 1:1-13a) David knew God. He had been chosen by God to be king over Israel. Together they had confronted the world, and David knew what it was to depend of God's guidance. He forgot. He was king, and he decided he could make decisions and run things. He did a lousy job of it. He and Bathsheba bore the consequences of their actions in the loss of the child of their misconduct. David repented completely, but having faced his failure accepted with it the aftermath. Don't you suspect he had many sleepless nights during his misconduct? Don't you know he would have expected God to have been as kind to him as he was to Uriah the Hittite? The consequences were dire, but they were out in the open, not the fear of the unknown, and now he could move forward, no longer relying on his decision-making abilities but again turning to God.
My life was unmanageable. My misdeeds weren't as dramatic as David's, but they abounded and they haunted me. I was intelligent, educated, a natural leader. For what reason would I expect not to be able to do what other people were doing? Like eating sanely. Like gaining the respect of those closest to me. Like living a meaningful life, not just existing, an automaton drearily plodding through the assigned tasks. Why could I not love and be loved? What was wrong with me?
What I hated most was for someone to say, "I don't know how you do all the things you do." I felt so false, so bogus. I wasted hours every day, avoiding doing what needed to be done, then rushed through the tasks when the deadline loomed and facing them was easier than facing myself, a failure once again.
My life was out of control, both in eating and in every other area. I had to have help. I needed sanity.
This morning I experienced a wave of the old madness. Nothing major was wrong. I had finished a massive project yesterday and felt pride in the product and the growth experience. But the bathroom scales didn't dip as far as I had hoped, and Tuesdays I normally go weigh "officially." What if my landmark 100 pounds off from last week no longer existed? The tank was low, so I stopped for gas, more expensive than the last two weeks. I should have bought yesterday or the day before. The car wash code I'd bought a week ago was rejected. Turning left against rush hour traffic seemed senseless, so I drove right then turned around.
Suddenly, with no more justification than that, the old insanity washed over me, that longing that in the past on virtually every day had sent me to the donut shop for an apple fritter. I'd tapered off and more recently the need had been treated to a weight-loss bar instead, but still, that was feeding the beast, and it was insanity. I didn't fall prey to it today. I know the urge came in part because this devotional needed writing and I'd asked God's help on it last night. I've drunk 3 cups of coffee since then, but ingested no calories.
Again, I accept my insanity, I accept my inability to control my own life and even what I put in my mouth. I give up. And I thank God for his willingness to pick up the responsibility.
How do you feel the insanity? Write about what you've tried to manage and cannot.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Embarrassment, Humiliation and Shame
Consider 2 Peter 2:13. I don't know about the parties, evidently during the communion dinner, but I certainly know the kind of eating behavior being described. I've lived it far too many times, year after year. Then I've stuffed more food down to kill the sting of the embarrassment, humiliation and shame.
Does God look down on us for our binging? I don't think so. I think he's bitterly disappointed, but his love doesn't turn to scorn, he doesn't give up on us. He continues to love us and longs for us to turn from our folly and find out there really is a sane way of life, one so simple, we cannot find the way with much searching. We can only find it by giving up.
We only have one moment in time, and it is the present. Yesterday and the days, months, years, and decades before haunt us, but we can't grasp them, can't change one iota of our behavior or the results of that. Tomorrow is a wisp of air out of our reach, always one day from our grasp. We can act today in ways that benefit tomorrow, that make tomorrow more pleasant, but we cannot effect any change in tomorrow. The change is only possible today, right now. Not five minutes ago, not an hour from now, but right now. What are you eating right now? If you are eating, is it something you'll approve of from the vantage of the future? If not, are you willing to put it down? Are you able to eat right this moment? Can you continue to do that the rest of today, moment by moment? Today is all you have. But you have today!
Write down everything you eat today. Be honest. If you have a friend with whom you can share the journey to slimness, are you willing to tell that person honestly and completely what you eat today? Will you do that, one day at a time?
Does God look down on us for our binging? I don't think so. I think he's bitterly disappointed, but his love doesn't turn to scorn, he doesn't give up on us. He continues to love us and longs for us to turn from our folly and find out there really is a sane way of life, one so simple, we cannot find the way with much searching. We can only find it by giving up.
We only have one moment in time, and it is the present. Yesterday and the days, months, years, and decades before haunt us, but we can't grasp them, can't change one iota of our behavior or the results of that. Tomorrow is a wisp of air out of our reach, always one day from our grasp. We can act today in ways that benefit tomorrow, that make tomorrow more pleasant, but we cannot effect any change in tomorrow. The change is only possible today, right now. Not five minutes ago, not an hour from now, but right now. What are you eating right now? If you are eating, is it something you'll approve of from the vantage of the future? If not, are you willing to put it down? Are you able to eat right this moment? Can you continue to do that the rest of today, moment by moment? Today is all you have. But you have today!
Write down everything you eat today. Be honest. If you have a friend with whom you can share the journey to slimness, are you willing to tell that person honestly and completely what you eat today? Will you do that, one day at a time?
Friday, November 2, 2007
Woe is me!
Consider Romans 7:21-24.
I'm an intelligent person, a successful professional, a competent leader, a resourceful individual. I can do most things I set out to do. Why, then, can I not control my eating? Like Paul, I do what I don't want to do, have full intentions of doing exactly what I know is not only right but best for me. I understand the rules when it comes to eating as well as I do all the other areas of my life where I function rather well. So what's wrong with me????
Others are able to decide to lose weight and do it. I'm not. Sure, it's hard for everybody who feels the need to lose, but it's not impossible! For me, obviously, it is. I know that because I really tried hard -- time after time -- for all those years. And I was a miserable failure at it.
There is a reason, and it's one that sounds preposterous at first, but when you finally accept it, not just in your head but in your heart, it's absolutely liberating! The reason is that for a compulsive overeater like me, it's not a personality flaw, it's a physical illness. I'm as much allergic to sugar and similar carbohydrates as other people are to nuts or bee stings or alfalfa. I cannot tolerate the carbs I crave. When I give into the craving, I'm like an alcoholic driven to madness by the overwhelming need for alcohol or the drug addict for the drug. Sugar is my drug of choice. When I give into the craving, I give in head over heels, a snowball barrelling for the bottom of a precipice.
You know, in some ways the problem for a compulsive eater can be even more difficult than the alcoholic's. Why? Two reasons.
But wait. There's hope. Read Romans 7:25.
There's hope. Thanks be to God.
Write down the ways you've hidden your eating from others. Have you stashed food in secret? Stolen it? Gone from one place to another so you don't buy so much in one place the clerk thinks badly of you? Have you eaten from the garbage pail or spoiled food? Do you clean the plates into yourself when you clear the table? Do you buy a dozen donuts so it looks like you're taking them to the office then eat the evidence before you arrive there? What behaviors make you feel like a hopeless sinner?
I'm an intelligent person, a successful professional, a competent leader, a resourceful individual. I can do most things I set out to do. Why, then, can I not control my eating? Like Paul, I do what I don't want to do, have full intentions of doing exactly what I know is not only right but best for me. I understand the rules when it comes to eating as well as I do all the other areas of my life where I function rather well. So what's wrong with me????
Others are able to decide to lose weight and do it. I'm not. Sure, it's hard for everybody who feels the need to lose, but it's not impossible! For me, obviously, it is. I know that because I really tried hard -- time after time -- for all those years. And I was a miserable failure at it.
There is a reason, and it's one that sounds preposterous at first, but when you finally accept it, not just in your head but in your heart, it's absolutely liberating! The reason is that for a compulsive overeater like me, it's not a personality flaw, it's a physical illness. I'm as much allergic to sugar and similar carbohydrates as other people are to nuts or bee stings or alfalfa. I cannot tolerate the carbs I crave. When I give into the craving, I'm like an alcoholic driven to madness by the overwhelming need for alcohol or the drug addict for the drug. Sugar is my drug of choice. When I give into the craving, I give in head over heels, a snowball barrelling for the bottom of a precipice.
You know, in some ways the problem for a compulsive eater can be even more difficult than the alcoholic's. Why? Two reasons.
- An alcoholic can avoid drinking alcohol forever, once the physical craving is past. Unless the compulsive eater has intravenous feeding forever, though, it's necessary to continue to eat food.
- An alcoholic is an angry person, angry at the world and mad at the face in the mirror. A food addict tends to be a person who follows the rules, who turns to food because it's proper, unlike alcohol which for many of us from the Bible Belt at least was always suspect. Our rage is just as real as the alcoholic's, but instead of expressing our anger, we deny it, stuff it inside, and tamp it down with food.
But wait. There's hope. Read Romans 7:25.
There's hope. Thanks be to God.
Write down the ways you've hidden your eating from others. Have you stashed food in secret? Stolen it? Gone from one place to another so you don't buy so much in one place the clerk thinks badly of you? Have you eaten from the garbage pail or spoiled food? Do you clean the plates into yourself when you clear the table? Do you buy a dozen donuts so it looks like you're taking them to the office then eat the evidence before you arrive there? What behaviors make you feel like a hopeless sinner?
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Have you reached your bottom?
A young child, after a while, will proclaim, "I can do it myself!" We continue to claim that long after we're young, long past the sweet confidence of mastery a first grader may possess. Weight loss is one of those things we do "all by ourselves" even when we join diet and calorie clubs or have a buddy to support us. We may, of course, pray. But we tend to pray for will-power, for weight loss, for specifics. Even when we ask for help, we want to do it ourselves, make the rules we follow--or at least choose them. More often than not, though, we choose to ignore them, to cheat on them, to overlook them for good cause--or bad cause--or just because.
I did. I tried for years and years and years to do it myself. Let's see...
I did. I tried for years and years and years to do it myself. Let's see...
- I had the diet pills the family doctor gave me at 13
- I counted calories.
- I counted carbs
- I got gold bumps put in my ears to massage as instructed to keep the hunger from coming back.
- I got hypnotized.
- I tried all the name brands...
- WW
- Jenny Craig
- Adkins
- South Beach
- Slim-Fast
- Scarsdale
- probably more I can't remember right now.
- I did the grapefruit diet, one I found in Woman's World, anything I read that sounded promising when I felt desperate.
- Back when amphetamines were not advised but were not illegal for a doctor to prescribe, I drove 150 miles and back to get a bottle of pills for 30 days. When I ran out and realized I was physically needing them, I had the sense not to go back to get the next month's supply.
- I had friends I'd never met face to face who had a contest to lose from 300 pounds to a sensible weight by email support. Their pictures, and mine, are still taped to the computer where I'm typing.
- For probably five years I saw a doctor monthly who used all his powers of persuasion and prescription to help me. Using the carb blockers and appetite suppressants, I got to the point I'd use the carb blockers because I intended to eat bad stuff.
- I bought the Weigh Down book, and it probably told me the same principals I finally found in OA, but I wasn't ready to admit it. Now I am.
I cannot do it myself.
Consider the scripture 2 Thessalonians 2:10(b)-12. It's not a pleasant scripture! Why would Paul talk of God's sending a delusion so all will be condemned? I don't know the future, but I do know the present. There's a literal Hell on earth to which we're condemned when, as compulsive overeaters, we persist in insisting we can manage for ourselves.
In light of my history, and -- I'm guessing -- your own, consider this: Maybe it's necessary for us to absolute reach the rock bottom of despair before we can let go and let God do it. Defeat on my own cleared the path to finding the spiritual way of absolutely conquering the weight I've carried psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually most of fifty years. Praise God, the bottom is there so the top can be found!
What have you tried, sure you could do it on your own? Make your own list. Answer the question, "Where's my bottom?"
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