Difficulty Should Refine—Not Define Us

“When we are no longer able to change a situation we are challenged to change ourselves.” Viktor E. Frankl

I was recently contemplating the rich and chocolatey brownies placed strategically outside my cubicle at work. I thought about the melty goodness on my tongue and the sugar euphoria that occurs in the minutes after consumption. I considered immediate gratification and long-term consequences. Then I did the only thing I know how to do in such circumstances. I cried out for help.

I have taken this hill before. So why am I fighting this battle again? Have the horrible habits that defined my life pre-weight loss conspired to annihilate me? Has my brain been befuddled by an overdose of holiday cheer? Am I simply longing for relief from the stress of making good choices day in and day out? Or am I inadvertently aiming at psychological self-sabotage?

I know what part of the problem is. Self-indulgence—a popular trait in American culture—is rarely scorned. We celebrate our ability to copiously indulge. Every television commercial promotes this ideology. The ads that pop up on the internet prompt us to put our money where our mouth is. And that’s just food. What about cars, clothes, shoes, and devices? We are told we need more, faster, and better things to make our lives more meaningful. But do they really?

Still, I could rage against corporate greed but that is only a symptom. The real problem is my heart. What do I love? Food. What do I worship? Dessert. What am I helpless to resist? Gluttony.

For many years I sought pleasure in overindulgence, but the more I ate, the more unhappy I became. I was never satisfied because food may satisfy the stomach but it will never satisfy the heart (though the Lord knows how hard I tried…).

So what do we do when we reach the place where we have denied ourselves nothing we desired and find ourselves spiritually, emotionally and physically bankrupt? How do we proceed when every thought is slavery to that thing we don’t know how to live without? How do we respond when the veil is removed and we see our situation for what it really is?

Dear reader, take heart! There is hope. This moment is a gift. Seize it and find life.

Abstinence is an opportunity

Rod Dreher recently wrote a compelling essay that included a personal story about his time spent practicing celibacy before marriage. He chose this path because of his choice to follow the tenants of his Catholic faith. It was a difficult position for him to take–but important–as he clearly articulates.

“It was so clear to me from the very beginning of our courtship that the three years that I lived chastely, out of obedience, had been a period of profound purification and maturation. I did not know what was happening to me when I was in the middle of it. I just trudged onward. But had I not submitted to the teachings of the Church (grounded in Scripture), I am certain that my heart would not have been ready to receive marriage. I would have remained the same immature man-boy, unable to commit to anything, following his inconstant passions. The chastity I lived under was difficult and even painful, but it was spiritual training that I desperately needed.”

When we deny ourselves that thing we “can’t live without”, we find out who we really are. C. S. Lewis wrote in Mere Christianity, “No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is.”

Now I am using the brownie as an example because it is a very real temptation for me towards gluttony. But my reader may not struggle with food. Maybe your vice is something easier to hide; like porn, or greed, or lying. That doesn’t mean they are any less toxic to the soul. Why? Because they are sin. And if you think lies aren’t horrible, tell that to the man who has been convicted of a crime he did not commit.

Why is sin important? Because sin separates us from God and He is the only one who can truly satisfy the longings of our soul.

Now maybe you will read that sentence and consider me a fool. Who is this “god” anyway and why does he want to get in the way of me having fun? He doesn’t have any business bossing me around. I’m living a perfectly fine and moral life. I’m not hurting anybody. Heck, I don’t need him ruining everything. Besides, I’m perfectly comfortable with my pretty little vices. My peculiar peccadillos make me happy. Shut up and leave me alone.

That may be your position today, but some day you may feel differently. When you do, come back and read the rest of this blog. You can bookmark it for reference. For the rest of you, keep reading.

I want the longings of my heart satisfied but I’m awfully stubborn. I’m so hard-headed that for years I didn’t care about my sin hurting God. I wanted what I wanted and if he didn’t like it he could go suck an egg. I let callouses grow around my heart so I could no longer discern what was good and right and true. Until one day I woke up and realized all those things I had been chasing brought me nothing but misery. You see, God hates sin, but He loves me. He let me pursue the lesser pleasures–to my detriment. In His kindness he showed me just how horrible sin really is by letting me have as much of it as I wanted. But when I finally chose Him instead of my sin, then the flood gates of joy really opened up

Now, if I want to remain in close communion with him, I must stop whatever sinful behavior I am tempted to commit. Is it difficult? Absolutely! Is He worth it? Yes, he is.

Are you miserable today? Do you feel trapped? Is there something that you can’t quit doing that brings you nothing but dissatisfaction and misery? Are you ready to admit you are powerless against it and ask for help? Good. He is ready and willing to refine you. All you had to do was ask.

Sometimes I am fighting the same battles I fought yesterday but I know the best news ever proclaimed to mankind; I am never fighting them alone, and with his help I will proclaim victory once again.

 

Reflections on Thanksgiving: How to Heal the Bitter Fruit that Grows from Wounded Roots

Life is messy. It’s unruly, frantic, and often ignoble. For those of us who do not live “ivory tower” lives, we struggle with the day-to-day tasks that steal our joy. Laundry. Purchasing new tires for cars. Arguing with a teenager who makes unreasonable demands. Or is this just me? Thus we look forward to things like vacation because we know we will have time to relax, rest, and rejuvenate.

So it was that I went into the Thanksgiving holiday with a whole host of expectations. Sleep late. Read a good book. Avoid shopping at stores at all costs. I wanted to be intentional with the holiday this year. I wanted to spend time with and appreciate my family, and I really wanted to practice gratitude.

I also wanted to avoid compulsive eating. Thanksgiving feasts are a nightmare for a food addict like me. I very much want to not think about food all the time, but that seems nigh impossible. I have built a lot of healthy habits over the past few years and I use these in my arsenal to fight against the tendency to overeat, but that does not mean it is easy. So many traditions are bound up with food. These are good traditions! Happy traditions! And I am grateful for the many years I have enjoyed my mom’s pumpkin and cherry pies, and roasted turkey with gravy and stuffing. These “staples” are delightful. They are also fodder for temptation.

Now many will argue that Thanksgiving is specifically for overeating, but I disagree. To put the focus on this one pleasure is too narrow a construct. As the memes on social media aptly pointed out, the payoff isn’t nearly as plentiful as the preparation presupposes. Besides, is this really all there is to look forward to? Stuffing food into our faces? If I have learned anything over the past 9 years of living a healthy lifestyle, consuming tasty victuals will never satisfy the soul. I realize Thanksgiving is a national holiday that most American’s celebrate so we must deal with the inevitable feasting mentality. I would only like to propose that we often miss the opportunities to really connect with our friends and family. 

We all crave human connection. We need people to affirm us, motivate us, and validate our existence. Anyone who has ever felt lonely in a crowd can attest to the basic human need to be seen and cared for. Too often we gather with family and spend time conversing on banal topics that promote friction rather than deeper relationships. There are many good reasons for this. We all have deep wounds from familial dysfunction. We either don’t know how to step outside the conversational grooves we have trod over the years or are not willing to change them. We facilitate the same meaningless conversations because we are fearful to talk about the deep subjects that really matter to us. We argue, or passive aggressively bait and bolt, and then go home and take out our frustrations on the people we live with. Or worse, we’ve given up spending time with our family’s altogether because we are all one big bundle of hurt feelings. Most importantly, we don’t know how to forgive. We cling to our hurts as if they are badges of honor, like somehow our wounds and scars make us tougher.

I don’t have a perfect answer to these problems; I only notice the patterns and wish they could be remedied. I know I’m not alone. I also know I am both victim and perpetrator and I have a tendency toward self-medication via overeating. Thus the holidays—for me and many others—are excruciating.

We overindulge. We drink too much alcohol, eat too much pie, and sometimes find relief in unmentionable substances that are slowly killing us. Namely, we harvest and carry the fruit that grows from our bitter roots rather than excising the ache and trying to find a salve that will cure the problem and kill that horrible weed forever.

Facing the root of our relational problems is messy business and many will argue that the Thanksgiving (or Christmas!) table is the very last place to start. Still, it’s worth considering. I’m not talking about shouting angry words and accusations. I would merely suggest asking humble questions with kindness and respect in order to chart a course to peace and harmony. We must find the courage to not only forgive those who have wounded us, but to ask forgiveness for the wounds we have caused. Often we don’t even know we have wounded and therefore we need honesty without vitriol. Then we must let go in love. Real love is not the squishy feeling we get while watching a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie. Real love fights to maintain the relationship because it respects and cherishes the human being with whom one is at odds. Real love chooses to forgive even if the hurt is incredible and embarrassment may result. But isn’t it worth the risk?

I may sound like a broken record with my Jesus talk but I have learned a lot of good things from Him over the years. One important thing he taught was that hatred is the same as murder.

 “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” – Matthew 5: 21-22

Therefore we must forgive and love if we are to follow his ways. It is something I need help with daily. But he always gives me more grace.

The grace of God is a beautiful thing. We accept it so casually as if it costs him nothing. We say, “God forgive my sins!” while we harbor treacherous thoughts about our neighbors. This grace was never meant to be internalized and put away like a pet rock. This grace was meant to be shared—especially with our families.

We settle for mere food when we could be feasting with our families with a grateful heart. Maybe some of you are, and this blog will not apply to you. Maybe others have tried this approach and failed (or felt like you failed). Yet others are reading this from a place of loneliness and brokenness that has driven you to despair. To the hurting one I would gently encourage you to keep trying. Cry out to God for help and ask him to repair what is broken. He may not fix it, but you can move forward knowing you did everything you could to make things right. Remember, He is a mighty king and He loves you.

I didn’t overeat this year but I sorely wanted to. I had one piece of pie and ate my vegetables and turkey in moderation. I had my own share of familial drama but also fought for peace with those I love. This was stressful and difficult but worth the effort. I enjoyed some down time with my son—hiking at Weldon Springs Conservation Area and slept late 3 days in a row. I even found a wonderful book at the St. Vincent De Paul thrift store in St. Charles, MO. “The Same Kind of Different as Me” gave me even more reasons to practice gratitude for the many blessings in my life.  

Christmas is right around the corner. If you feel you missed your chance to extend an olive branch to your friends and loved ones at Thanksgiving and you are still alive, take heart! You still have more time. But seriously, pray for help and try again. Rather than settling for the small pleasure of a super-full belly and a lot of meaningless chit chat, press into what matters most; love. You are worth it and so are they.

How to Find Real Hope and Not Just Another Coping Mechanism

“Christianity is not merely a set of ideas and practices and feelings designed for our psychological well-being–whether designed by God or man. That’s not what Christianity is. Christianity begins with the conviction that God is an objective reality outside ourselves.” John Piper

I grabbed a handful of candy and sat down. I consumed piece after piece; savoring each sugary crumb. I melted into that oblivion that only corn syrup and preservatives can produce in the brain of a sugar addict. The opiate was not complete however until I had eaten every single piece and made three trips for more. No, this was not last month or last year. It was last week.

I sat down with a friend a few days ago for coffee. He had asked to meet with me to discuss my weight loss journey. He peppered me with questions. “What motivated you to lose weight? What was the catalyst? How do you stick with it?” He didn’t know me before I lost all the weight, but met me at work when I was about three months into my journey. He was even more curious about who I am today and how I manage to maintain my dramatic weight loss. Then, he asked me the most curious question of all. “Margaret, have you ever thought about monetizing what you do?” As in, shouldn’t I try to capitalize on my success?

So many people in this world want to reduce their girth. They will plop down money for self-help books, weight loss pills, and diet plans that include creepy hormones “designed to reset the metabolism”. They are looking for an answer, but not necessarily the answer. My friend thought I should start selling my answer. After all, why not make a living doing what has worked for me. I honestly don’t believe this is a wrong question. Obviously, Bob Vila used his skills and abilities to make This Old House a tremendous success. And why not make money doing what you love?

Me in July of 2010 about 2 months into my journey, having lost about 40 pounds

The moment I realized something needed to change in my life is deeply personal. I have shared it in this venue and others, but no one could possibly understand unless they have walked in morbidly obese shoes. I felt completely helpless over my obsession with eating. I had lost weight and gained weight more times than I could count and yet I found myself at 310 pounds. Yes, there was a catalyst; a co-worker made me feel subhuman because of the shape of my body. She was tactless and rude, but probably not so maniacal as I thought at the time. The good news is, she prompted me to ask hard questions about the way I was living.

There are key moments in my memory that stick out. The first was a desperate prayer to God. It was deep and guttural and therefore difficult to put into words. But it was something along the lines of, “What is wrong with me? Why can’t I stop eating? What is the answer? Will you help me?” He whispered to me in that way that is utterly mystical and mysterious. “Margaret, you need to learn discipline.”

At the time, this was a reasonable answer but not one I particularly liked. Still, I was desperate enough to listen and to begin to take steps to change my life. But there was no magic wand, no magic pill, no magic anything. I went on that first walk around the block with my young boys and wept because of the strain of walking uphill. Gravity is not friendly to people who are overweight. It was painful–pathetic even–and it broke my heart.

“The Lord is near to the broken hearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

Worse than exercising–an activity I loathed beyond measure–was changing the foods I ate. I gave up fast food, soda and candy on the same day. I began to drink water, which was totally gross. I reasoned that instead of putting food into my mouth, I would drink water instead. I had read that the body needs lots of water and therefore one should drink a lot of it. It was a desperate weight loss tactic, but one that was key to stopping my compulsive eating. I would drink instead of eat. The water was helpful in that it kept dehydration (from crying!) at bay.

Prepare to suffer

When I set out to learn discipline, it felt very much like medieval torture. No White Castle. No Taco Bell. No Nestle Treasures. I wasn’t just physically addicted to eating, I was psychologically addicted. If anything, food was my coping mechanism and obviously, it wasn’t working. The turning point for me was choosing to ask God to teach me to put food in its proper place; a means for the body to refuel and not a worship experience. We “worship” what we “love” and I loved food. I had to unlearn that behavior. In the process I came to know the profound strength God provides to people who place their trust in Him.

How does one monetize that? And if they could, wouldn’t that seem rather self-serving?

I was given a gift. The gift was God himself. To be candid, I knew him before I lost weight but I had not put him in his proper place, as Lord of my life.

We can’t see God, but He is there. We can’t touch God, but we can feel His love. We can’t smell God, but the aroma of His compassion can fill our senses. How is this possible? Through Jesus the Christ of course.

Now I just lost a bunch of people because I got really weird. After all, isn’t God just some mystical hokum reserved for stupid people who need an emotional crutch to get them through hard times? Isn’t the idea of God for people who are well, you know, a little “slow”? Well, one could never accuse me of being overly intelligent. After all, I kept rabbits as pets for years–in the house–where they would poop on the floor. What kind of person does that? (actually, there are a lot of people who do that–and thank you Missouri House Rabbit Society!) I write all of that to illustrate that just because we don’t understand something, this does not mean it is not true or real or very, very important.

When I say that God helped me lose weight, I don’t mean that he pushed the mystical button and said, “Thou hast now lost weight!” No. That is weird. But He did call me into closer relationship with himself. He showed me his love by walking with me through the streets of Ferguson, Missouri on the hottest and coldest days of the year and by speaking his kindness to my heart through his word (I downloaded my Bible onto my phone). He sent people to listen when I was truly suffering life without my treasured companions; cookies, ice cream and candy. And He gave me fresh eyes to see the reality of my situation; namely, that food would never be a faithful companion. He taught me that my life has value–heavy or thin. He told me he loved me too much to leave me as I was and encouraged me to press forward into who He wanted me to be. He helped me to know and understand my purpose in this life.

We can do a lot of things by human resolve (a topic I have written about extensively). We can even lose weight or break the chains of addiction if we have never known God. What I tried to articulate to my friend over coffee was that my journey to learn discipline has really been more about learning who God created me to be; someone who gives hope to people who don’t have any. Someone who shines light into dark places. God set me free from the chains of food addiction in order to do these things. Does this mean I don’t still fall into the bad habit of worshipping food? No it does not. That is because I am a sinner who lives in a broken world. I am still living by God’s good grace. I am still daily asking for help to put food in its proper place.

I am very intentional with this blog. I personally absorb the cost of this website. I do this because I genuinely want to help people who have lost hope in this dark world. You will find no commercials here. I have been asked by many people and even several companies to try products and then “promote” them on this website. It’s not going to happen. My only goal in sharing my struggles is to point people to Christ as the only source of real hope in this world.

Me in September of 2018

I could easily promote my identity as based off my accomplishments. “Look at the woman who lost 140 pounds! Isn’t she great?” But that too is a fallacy. I didn’t do it by myself. God was my help. Instead, I would rather give credit to the One who made it possible. But I think the Apostle Paul says it better than I can in his letter to the Christians in Galatia.

“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Galatians 2:20 

There have been no shortage of people over the years who made me feel like my life was valueless. God reminded me who I am in Christ; completely valuable. If you are reading this, you are too. Whatever your addiction is, God invites you to surrender your will to him, to let go of your coping mechanisms, and to cling to Him instead. He is real and He loves you.