Destination Discipline

^“And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body go into hell.” Matthew 5:30

“The bible doesn’t really say that, does it?”

My son ran over to read the words on the page that I had just finished reading.

If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell.” – Matthew 5:29

“That seems a little crazy.” He said.

Crazy, indeed. Just as crazy as a virgin giving birth. A prophet who eats wild locusts and honey. And a man who raises a dead person to life after three days. Who on earth can believe the stuff in the bible? After all, sometimes it reads like something out of Grimm’s Fairy Tales.

As strange as the bible and Grimm’s tales are, I have been thinking about a strange thing in my everyday life. It takes a lot of courage to admit this, but I have become addicted to monosodium glutamate. Lately, it is all I think about. And candidly, if I had the ability to carve out the piece of my brain that is screaming MSG all the time, I would totally do it.

Right now, you are wondering, has Margaret lost her marbles? Because there are marbles everywhere on this page and Margaret seems to be missing a few.

I have not lost my marbles, thank-you-very-much, but if I did, I’d blame it all on monosodium glutamate.

What is monosodium glutamate? Well, I’m glad you asked. It is the chemical otherwise known as MSG. It is widely used in processed foods as a flavor enhancer. And it is very, very effective. It makes inedible food taste mediocre, and mediocre food taste amazing. The FDA has approved its use and the US Government thinks it’s fine. And since we trust the US Government, we obviously should eat as much as we want. Right? Well, at the very least, MSG is not as harmless as you think it is.

I don’t eat much processed food because I try to avoid consuming preservatives, but there are a few things I eat occasionally that have recently become problematic. One of these is General Tso’s chicken from my local Chinese Restaurant.

I wanted to understand why every time I consume it I:

1. feel like I must keep eating even though I know I am stuffed to the gills.
2. feel mildly intoxicated
3. swell up like a water balloon
4. crave sweets to the point of madness
5. think incessantly about my next fix
6. feel depressed for the next few days
7. gain weight

I certainly don’t feel this way when I eat vegetables. Or fruit for that matter.

Whereas we used to get Chinese food once in a blue moon, I am now struggling to limit my purchase to once a week. I feel about this meal the way I used to feel about ice cream. Is life even worth living without it? But the moment I realized what was happening, I began to realize I had a serious problem. I already knew my pants were angry. Worse, no matter how much I work out, I can’t seem to lose make them happy. So I started to wonder—what exactly is in that stuff?

Monosodium glutamate!

And it’s not just in Chinese food. It’s in potato chips and cookies and pizza. It is a “flavor enhancer” which means they add to it most processed foods.

I don’t need to write a treatise on the ill-effects of MSG—others have done that. I am attaching links so you can research to your hearts content. But I will tell you, it’s really strange. And if you think about it, companies that add such toxic chemicals to food in order to hook consumers are evil. They are no different than drug dealers. I don’t care if what they are doing is legal—it is wrong to make people so addicted that they consume themselves to ill health or death.

Now, I realize I may have lost the average reader who read what I just wrote and thought, “What, give up Chinese food, are you mad?”

I’m glad you asked. Yes, I am mad. As in really, really angry.

Here’s why. This website chronicles exactly what MSG is and what it does.

This website is the fruit of one woman’s life long search to find healing for her chronic health issues –  most of which stemmed from consuming MSG.

I would venture to guess many of the health issues American’s face today are directly related to chemicals in processed foods, but I never realized just how bad MSG was. I thought I could safely consume it. I never imagined it would take such a hold on my life. But I guess this experience just proves some things cannot be consumed in moderation. Some things—like MSG—should never be consumed at all.

So, if you are struggling with depression, chronic allergies (or bronchitis) inability to lose weight, fibromyalgia, arthritis, Parkinson’s disease or any other neuro disorder, or like me – uncontrollable food cravings, take note. It could be monosodium glutamate. Take a few minutes to read about it. Get angry. And then cut it out of your life forever. MSG may not send you to hell, but it will certainly make your life on earth, hell.

It’s going to take some serious fortitude to break this cycle of treachery. My thoughts are “consumed” with my favorite meal. But it’s worth noting, Jesus came to set sinners free from their chains. And if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. I just need to keep reminding myself that living a life free from food addiction entails focusing on what I can eat—not what I cannot. And there are plenty of other food that give me joy and do not cause such horrible physical symptoms.

Today, if you are struggling with any kind of addiction, know that there is hope and healing. God will help if you ask him. Just like he raised Lazarus from the dead. Just like he sent Jesus through the body of a virgin. More importantly, he will save you from your sins (both past and present). Because he loves you. You can trust Him!

The gloom descended in the form of cold, dark clouds. They swirled and filled the trees with menace. Not even the fearless mockingbird was unaffected. She flicked her tail nervously and hopped from branch to branch in a spindly tree. She flew to my right and then to my left as my feet crunched against the limestone gravel. We were alone–she and I. Caught in the frozen grasp of winter. Helpless against the frozen onslaught. Marching amid an impotent storm that was all bluster and no bite.

The mockingbird

I don’t understand the mockingbird. In the darkest moments of my life she is always there–singing. She flits between telephone poles and electric wires, over church spires and ramshackle houses. She calls to me with a hundred different songs and I am helpless to not respond. I whistle and I wait. This time, she does not respond.

I went to the park to absolve the evil impulses brooding in my body. Winter does something to my mood that is as complex as it is devastating. I don’t know if it is the shorter sun cycle, or the cold, or the repressed memory of feasts gone by, but the full fury of my food addiction rages like a wildfire and my only repose is to walk and pray.

But I am haunted by desire. My brain craves the sweet desserts of yesteryear. There are promises whispered and longings unfulfilled. Unbidden, the thoughts of my mother’s homemade fudge swirl to remembrance and I see myself at my worst–baking pan after pan to satisfy an insatiable craving. So I walk and I weep. I am as ashamed of the memory as I am for the desire. I am walking but I am secretly fighting the impulse to go to the store and purchase ingredients for a “good old fashioned binge.”

Have you ever faced such a temptation? How did you respond?

Early in my journey I adopted a phrase, “If hunger is not the problem, then eating is not the solution.” But I realize now–these many years later–that eating still wants to be the solution. Especially when enervating emotions descend.

I think of Joseph and the temptation to indulge in a tryst with Potiphar’s wife. I wonder if she was beautiful. I imagine it would have been no temptation at all had she been difficult to look at. Thus, he fled her presence–going so far as to leave his cloak in her grasping hands. In her humiliation she betrayed him to her husband and had him banished to prison. What were his thoughts then, I wonder? Were they anything like mine as I walk mile after mile to somehow try to avoid the evil impulses that grasp at me? Because the truth is, I would rather lie down with fudge than walk, but I have resolved not to sin against my God.

How long with that resolve sustain me?

By grace I have been saved and I shall be saved again. I endure soul hunger no piece of food can ever satisfy. So I pray and I wait. And I whistle at the mockingbird though she offers no reply. Because I believe the prayers of the righteous are powerful and effective as they are working. God knows I will probably always suffer these food furies, but he has promised that His grace will always be sufficient for me.

Today, if you are struggling with addiction, do not lose heart. You are not alone. We inhabit bodies riddled by sin and the war we fight to stay sober is brutally hellish. But we must not lay down our swords.

There is a song written by Charlie Chaplin that always comes to mind when I am fighting tears. It comes to mind now. Only instead of “Smile” I suggest we sing, “Fight!”

Dear Dean,

Hello. I know we don’t know each other–and it might be improper to address you so informally–but I hope you will extend grace to me because today, I woke up in one of your novels.

I won’t lie. I am scared. Some kind of plague has infected the whole world and hundreds of thousands of people have died. There is a group of weirdos saying it’s—well, all a conspiracy—and the population has been divided by those who do or don’t wear a mask. Worse, people are rioting in the streets and have waged war on the police. Incredibly, I saw mayors and governors saying whole cities should have their police forces defunded. And if that isn’t bad enough, there is an election and the media outlets are censoring anyone who dares question the narrative. For the moment I’m safe. I found a safe corner to hide in before some creepy kid with a quivering lip pops up to tell me he sees dead people and I realize I’m one of them.

But while I sat there contemplating my next move, I felt a growing dread that chilled the lowest vertebrae in my spine. I wondered if you were going to walk through the door. I knew if that happened it would be the end of the world.

C.S. Lewis, one of the great masters of science fiction, wrote about one such a scenario.

“God will invade. But I wonder whether people who ask God to interfere openly and directly in our world quite realize what it will be like when He does. When that happens, it is the end of the world. When the author walks on to the stage the play is over.”

That is why I am writing. Please, Sir, don’t come to my house.

Now, I realize there may be an important reason for the end of the world, but I’d like to delay it a little while if, at all possible. So, if you would rather consider sending one of the heroes from your novels instead, that would be greatly appreciated.

If you would allow for suggestions, Jimmy Tock from Life Expectancy is a good one. If you recall, Jimmy was a baker whose birth precipitated a prediction of five dark days that would occur before his untimely death at the age of 30. He was incredibly calm as he navigated those dark days and was even vaguely philosophical. Wouldn’t it be kind to send someone who is cool enough to discuss brewing up a pot of bittersweet hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon while facing a homicidal maniac?

Jane Hawk is another good choice. When faced with a sinister plot to enslave humans with nanotechnology, she was quick with a pistol and her wits. Of her you wrote, “If she had been a person who ran from trouble instead of into it, she might have fled. But to flee would be to dishonor herself and to further fail her mother, whom she had failed nineteen years earlier. This was a world that didn’t reward flight. Whenever you fled from anything, you inevitably fled into its equivalent.”

Jane said, “Even in the darkest darkness, hope was a lifeline, though sometimes as thin as a thread.”

Since the end of the world seems nigh threatening at the moment, I could use some of that hope of which she espouses.

But if I had to choose my favorite, I’d ask that you send Odd Thomas. Odd’s perspective on the villains he faced during various apocalypse was always rather poignant.

“…the most identifying trait of humanity is our ability to be inhumane to one another.”

Odd was never inhumane to others, well, except for those who were trying to annihilate him. He had to deal with them of course. But he was always good. And we need more goodness in the world. We need a world where a fry cook “feels obligated to kill murderous sociopaths if that is the only way to prevent them from slaughtering more innocents.” We need a world where there exists a Shakespeare quoting best friend like Big Ozzie. We need a world where even though his beloved Stormy had passed from this life to the next, he never stopped believing in the gypsy mummy fortune that they were “destined to be together forever”.

Can you send him please?

Because if Odd showed up, I would know what is happening is fiction. If Odd arrived and said, “The devil and all his demons are dull and predictable because of their single-minded rebellion against truth.” Then, I could nod in agreement. If he said, “The uniqueness of every soul is not a theme that our current culture, obsessed with group identities, cares to assert” I would then respond with, “We are souls. We merely have bodies.” And we would fist bump. I would wait patiently while he made astute observations like, “Of course, one must always remember that although The Sound of Music is the most feel good movie of all time, it is crammed full of Nazis.” Yes, Odd would do nicely. We would be great pals.

Dean, (by now I hope you have warmed to the notion of me using your first name) your stories make clear you believe there is a war between good and evil. You also remind me good always wins. You know all humanity has a need for a hero. I know this because you have made a living out of weaving tales that illuminate hope in the human heart. None the least of which is the true story of the greatest hero to ever touch your life; Trixie.

Trixie Koontz

“The shimmer and flash of her golden coat in the sun, the speed with which she pursued her prey, the accuracy of every leap to catch the airborne treasure, the forepaw landing followed by a whip-quick turn the instant the back paws touched the earth…She was not just graceful in a physical sense. The more I watched her, the more she seemed to be an embodiment of that greatest of all graces we now and then glimpse, from which we intuitively infer the hand of God, infer the truth that this world’s beauty is a gift to sustain the heart, and infer the reality of mercy.” – A Big Little Life

Come to think of it, just reading about Trixie gives me hope. If God can create such an indelible creature who, by your words has inspired this generation—and probably more to come—why am I hiding in the corner?

Gulp.

Well, Dean, I feel I have taken up enough of your time. Yes, the world may be ending, but I’m starting to form an idea for how best to respond. I certainly don’t have all the answers, but I have learned enough from the characters you’ve written to know character is the most important quality anyone can possess. You wrote, “If a person has true character—which always includes a sense of honor and duty, as well as a tough set of personal standards—he or she will not fail you.” You see, I have been learning discipline for over a decade now—and while not as shrewd as Jane Hawk nor as culinary inclined as Jimmy Tock, I may have the makings of an Odd in me somewhere. I’m not afraid to talk to strangers in distress and to share the hope that shines brightest into dark places.

So, Dean, I hope you’ll take leave of me at this point. Because I’m not in the corner any longer and I may or may not have a weapon. And while you might have been contemplating a visit to my abode, you may forgive the earlier platitudes and be acutely warned. My doorstep is not safe for harbingers of the Apocalypse. I’ve got a spatula. And I know how to use it.

Kind regards,

Margaret Wolfinbarger