Archive for the The Journey Category

I woke up at 4:58am and stared at the alarm clock. I knew it was due to ring in exactly 2 minutes. So I turned it off, pulled the covers over my head and hid. Because Monday morning is like a monster hiding under the bed; if the covers are pulled up, it can’t get me. I hid that way for about 50 minutes, which in effect, ruined any possibility of me exercising before work. When I finally crawled out from under the covers I resigned myself to the day and climbed in the shower–defeated.

But I didn’t hang on to that attitude. I let the shower wash my coward away. Then I went to work and pretended to be a grown up. It was a good day. And I learned a lot. I accomplished a lot too.

And then I started to drive home and I realized that, as much as daylight savings time scrambles my brain, it means I have an extra hour at the end of the day. And so with great excitement I pulled out my work-out clothes, slipped on my favorite running shoes, grabbed my Switchfoot tunes, and off I went!

And the sky was so blue. And the sun was so bright and beautiful. And the temperature was a perfect 60 degrees. And honestly, it just felt so good to move.

Sometimes I am weak. And sometimes I am strong. And sometimes they both happen in the same day. And it’s totally awesome. Today I am happy because I didn’t stop at weakness and failure–I keep swimming! And that’s something to be thankful for.

I met a man named Carl at Schnucks on the way home. I was buying a cauliflower so I would have a vegetable to eat for dinner. I asked Carl how he was doing and he said “Great!” And he seemed so genuinely happy that it rubbed off on me. I told him, “Attitude is everything, isn’t it?” And he said yes. And then for good measure he added, “I always say, I used to complain about not having shoes, but then I met a guy with no feet.” And he smiled this great big white toothy smile that made me feel warm inside. Life is good, my friends. Today, life is good.

I went to bed hungry last night. It seems almost unfathomable to me to write that. My hunger was more for dessert than dinner, so when I say “hungry” I mean that I wanted ice cream or chocolate. I had eaten a light dinner(grilled chicken salad) and since my stomach wasn’t hurting(true hunger) I decided to lay down and go to sleep rather than eat a bunch of junk. I haven’t had the discipline to do this for a very long time for several reasons, all of which are terribly embarrassing.

I don’t write about my addiction to food very much but it is a very present reality in my life. The reason I don’t like to write about it is because words have power, and if I am not careful I give my compulsions too much strength when I would rather rest in God’s grace to help me overcome them. I make light of wanting treats sometimes, but my desire for food can be a terrible burden. And it’s not just a lifetime of bad habits that gets me, it’s the true nature of the desires that lurk deep in my heart where no one can see them.

Pride is a problem. It distorts everything. Pride is at the root of all selfishness and when given free reign it steals the very thing it promises to give; namely, peace. I could go off on a tangent about the culture I live in, but at this moment I would rather focus on the culture of me. I define personal culture as the place I dwell when no one else is watching. The Kingdom of Margaret is a truly terrifying place to dwell. The ruler there is a tyrant; demanding and unforgiving. She also makes false promises and then punishes when she doesn’t achieve the desired result. She is only and always looking to protect, preserve and promote the kingdom, even and especially at the expense of others. Even worse, she pretends her kingdom is the best when she knows differently. Make no mistake, her gates may look strong, but her kingdom is full of dead men’s bones.

I get anxious when I think about being hungry. For me there is no greater disaster than an empty belly. I would rather exercise the cartilage out of my knees than suffer with a small meal or skip dessert. That’s the cold, hard truth. Therefore I am always at war with myself when I consider what I should eat as opposed to what I want to eat. I am thankful that I have learned about nutrition and how to nourish my body, but that doesn’t cure the fundamental desire to eat until my stomach is distended. Temperance in regards to food is an excruciating discipline and one that only works until my resolve holds out. Because I have to eat. I have no choice. And when the mental barrier falls under the battering ram of desire, I am dissolute. That is why the only hope I have found is in surrendering my kingdom to a better ruler. There is a king who knows infinitely more about how to take care of my realm, and I am learning that the only time I find true satisfaction, true peace, and true pleasure is when I submit to his authority.

I woke up very hungry this morning, and as a rule the first thing I did was check social media. I’m not proud of it. It’s a terrible/wonderful habit. I checked on my Marine son and some of my friends. And that is when I saw it–the most beautiful picture of a homemade cinnamon roll. Today is March 20th and the last time I had a homemade cinnamon roll was on Christmas when I baked some for my family. I have included a picture here for your viewing pleasure. Normally when I see a picture of food, the first thing I do is think about how to procure it for myself for consumption as quickly as humanly possible. Then I have a little argument with myself about whether it is good for me, or how many calories it contains, or if it’s worth the price of the guilt I’ll feel later. But this morning a very curious thing happened. Last night I prayed before I went to bed that God would give me the strength NOT to eat dessert and also to NOT eat in the middle of the night(another embarrassing habit). I laid down my desire for food at His feet and went to bed with peace in my heart. This morning that peace was still reigning in my heart and mind when I saw the picture of the cinnamon roll. So when I found myself chuckling at a memory, I was more than a little shocked. I will share it here in the hopes that it encourages someone else who is struggling. If we lay our burdens at Jesus feet and fully submit to his will, He promises to be a faithful ruler and he will take care of us.

I was 310 pounds at my heaviest. The first form of exercise I did was walking around my neighborhood in Ferguson, Missouri. Ferguson is marked for its hills, none of which are as steep or foreboding as the hill that ascends from Paul Avenue up Elizabeth Avenue. A few months into my journey, after I had lost about 50 pounds, I began to work out in the mornings instead of the evenings. Those walks were still really hard, and I’ll be honest, I frequently wanted to quit–especially when faced with that hill! What I didn’t realize was that there are several bakeries in Ferguson, one of which sits back off of Paul Avenue and St. Louis Avenue(right at the base of it). Much to my horror, I could smell the donuts and other delicacies baking as I walked by. For at least 10 full minutes and at several different intervals during the hill, I would have to deal with the wonderful smells while I pumped my arms and sweated. So often I would cry, enduring that smell and knowing I could not consume the food at the source of it. The discouraging thoughts were so overwhelming,and I felt so helpless to combat them, that I had no other choice but to give them to Jesus. I made it a practice to walk and pray and look up at the moon and stars. Every time I passed the sweet-smelling bakery, I would lift up my heart and say, “Please take my desire for donuts today. I can’t bear that burden. It’s too much for me.” And every day He did, even though I never got used to the smell of that stupid bakery.

This morning when I saw the picture of the cinnamon roll, that memory was a pleasant reminder that when I give my desires to him, he is faithful to help me overcome (the worst of) them. The picture of that sweet pastry caused me to have a pleasant association with the abstaining of it rather than a strong longing for it. And that is why God is a better ruler of my kingdom than me. Because when I submit my weaknesses to him, he takes my selfish desires and replaces them with a deep and abiding sense of peace. So rather than the cycle of self-torture by way of gorging my stomach and then regretting it, or even worse, self-torturing myself for days or even months by abstaining until I finally give in to my food lust, God reminded me that when I give him my fleshly desires, he gives me the full satisfaction of my heart in Him.

Today if you are struggling with any form of addiction, I encourage you to pursue a new ruler of your kingdom who will help overthrow the evil dictator and bring peace to your land. He is real. He is able. And He loves you. Jesus is teaching me that discipline is a sweet surrender in the most wonderful way possible. Because the ability to view the omission of my favorite desserts without flying into a panic is a most beautiful experience of my life.

“It’s not my ability, but my response to God’s ability that counts.” – Corrie Ten Boom

Yesterday I just wanted a hug. My body was unhappy and I longed for the loving arms of a friend to comfort me. I felt this weakness so down deep into my bones that I silently cried out in agony for someone, anyone, to hear my hurt and bind up my wounds. So it was that I found myself on the phone with a casual friend. As I explained my weakness and illness she responded the way that so many people do. “You need to find the right doctor. You need to fix this problem as soon as possible. You can’t just sit back and suffer like this.” And while her words were meant to help, they only made me feel worse. They put the weight of my burden squarely back on my shoulders. As if I haven’t seen doctors. As if I haven’t taken medicines. As if I am doing something wrong because I haven’t found a solution yet. And I felt the weight of her words for some time after the conversation was over. And I wished I had never told her how much I was hurting because no matter how much she wanted to relieve my pain, she could not.

Pain ignites within us a deep longing for relief that cannot be met by human beings. This point has never been so brilliantly illustrated as it was to me a few nights ago when my husband called me in to watch a Jennifer Nettles video for one of her new songs. Now my dear readers must understand that I adore Ms. Nettles. Her voice transports me straight to the emotions she so brilliantly illustrates vocally. My husband thinks she swell too. So when we saw the video for “Unlove You” we were transfixed. In fact, we both stood there staring at the computer as the moving pictures so beautifully illustrated this song of desperate longing for love. But within a few minutes I started to feel sick as it became evident what the song was about; an illicit love affair. As the characters dove into the water to consummate their passion I said, “I can’t watch this,” and I walked away. I heard him say behind me, “Yeah, that’s not one of her best.” And we could have said a lot more but we didn’t. Because even though our marriage survived the affair, the scars remain, no matter how many years have passed. And we both know the truth; our deep longings can never be satisfied by flimsy passions, no matter how many pretty pictures and songs you paint around them.

Our culture is very good at telling us what we want. We want extra cheese on our pizza, extra va-va-voom in our cars, and extra sexy for our bodies. Companies exploit our passions via glitzy marketing to feed their own monetary greed. And we follow along like eager puppies wagging our tails. But I would like to propose that when pain hits and digs in its heels, there is nothing our culture has to offer that will help us.

My father-in-law was recently talking to me about a drug dealer who lives across the street from him. He says the flow of people in and out is disconcerting. He said to me, “I just don’t understand why people do drugs.” I tried to be delicate but in essence said, “I do. They do it to numb the pain.” That’s about the best our culture has to offer—the means to numb our pain. We can do it with food—as I did for years—or with drugs, or even with people(“illicit love”). But when we lay in bed at night with intense physical or emotional pain, we are forced to come to terms with the fact that nothing and no one on this cursed planet can help us. I believe that is why super heroes are so popular. We all have this innate desire inside of us that is screaming out to be rescued.

Because we can’t cure cancer.

And we can’t bring the dead back to life.

Shoot. We can’t even make peace with our neighbors.

So whether you want to admit it or not, the absolute truth is that we are absolutely and completely helpless. So depending on your world view you have one of two options; seek the pleasures of today and revel in them until you die—believing there are no absolute consequences. Or, cry out to God to save you.

“For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.”  – The Apostle Paul in his letter to the Roman Christians

I want life and peace. There I’ve said it. I’ve tried the things of this world and they just don’t satisfy the longings of my heart. Maybe you are reading this and thinking I’m a lunatic. Maybe you think my God-talk is a crutch for uneducated thinking. Maybe you even think that the intellectual pursuit of peace and holiness is just plain stupid. After all, there is just too much fun to be had in this world so why would I want to deny myself the pleasure of it. What I’m saying is this; pleasure for pleasure’s sake is empty. I know because I’ve tried it and it only made the longings grow. Even numbing the pain doesn’t cure the problem. It’s like taking an Advil and pretending I don’t have a flesh eating bacteria eating the skin off my leg. I want a cure. I want real and lasting relief. I want the kind of satisfaction that seeps into the hollow places in my heart and fills them up so that I don’t have to go out and keep looking for more. More sex. More food. A nice car. Cooler friends. A more attractive mate.

Some doctors have told me I’m perfectly healthy. I know I am not. So when there are no other answers, I keep searching. And maybe one day I’ll figure it out. But even if I do not(and that is important) I believe that God has a purpose for my suffering–if only to make me more dependent on Him. Because here’s the truth—Jesus satisfies the deepest longings of my heart.

Yesterday I was in terrible pain. Emotional pain. Physical pain. And I was tired of the whole business of life. So I cried out to Jesus for help. And I found it.

“For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.”  – The Apostle Paul in his letter to the Roman Christians

I’m not alone. Pain is part of the human condition. We all long for redemption, even if we don’t want to admit it.

Today I forced myself out of bed and onto the elliptical machine. I honestly did not believe I could work out. I tried anyway. I always assume I can make it at least 15 minutes. Then I try for 15 more. That’s my philosophy – I don’t think I can, but I will try. It’s my approach to food addiction and my marriage, and raising my children. But the backbone behind this philosophy is that I know I cannot do these things. In myself, I am not strong enough to persevere through life. But God is able to give me the strength when I need it most. When all my faculties fail me, whether it be physical strength or emotional strength, he is able when I am not. Jesus is my truth. He is my only hope. And He satisfies the deepest longings of my soul.