Destination Discipline

Well the South side of Chicago, is the baddest part of town, and if you go down there you better just beware of a man named Leroy Brown. – Jim Croce

He’s standing in the shadows there, steely-eyed and fierce. He peers from beneath the dark gray fedora with bloodshot eyes and a hint of stale tobacco on his breath. I am walking down the sidewalk with a skip in my step and a happy song in my head until I hear him whisper, “Would you like a brownie little girl?”

My heart starts to race. I look around me to see if anyone is watching. I want the brownie, but I don’t want anyone to see me take it from him. I take a step forward. I lift my hand up. He holds out the brownie on a white porcelain plate–still warm from the oven and delectably fudgy. The smell of it rises into my nostrils and I am a pile of goo. I want it so bad I can already taste it. In fact, I may as well have, it’s just that close. Bad Leroy Brownie is at it again, and I love to hate that ugly brother.

If you are reading this and have never lusted after anything, you must be a zombie–i.e., you are dead. We all have that thing that “gets” us every time. My thing just happens to be food.

Now dear reader, lest you think I’m a big whiney baby, I am not alone. In fact, just yesterday I was on the phone with the man from tech support at work. Barney (not his real name) was working on solving my laptop issue when I heard the crinkle of plastic in the background. He said, “Oh, don’t mind that. I just need to eat a cookie.” I thought, ‘Ah, sweet cookie of gladness how I miss thee,’ but in real life I said, “That cookie is going to kill you.”

Thank goodness he didn’t hang up the phone and leave me to fix my own laptop. We had a brief chat about weight loss and regain while he ate the cookie in my ear. Then I charmed myself out of temptation by reading stories on the internet about celebrities who have undergone gastric bypass surgery; including those who found success and those who failed miserably. But stories don’t keep me from indulging any more than $23,000 cures the problem of gluttony.

Aisha Sultan from the Post Dispatch wrote an insightful article yesterday titled, “Why Can’t I lose Weight?” She lamented age as a contributor to a slowed metabolism and I could certainly relate. Sometimes I feel like if I even think about bathing in brownies, I gain weight. And this is the point in the blog where I hang my head in shame and admit that I ate a pan of brownies in December and I still haven’t lost the 5 pounds I gained from eating it. Bad Leroy Brownie stuck it to me in the keister again.

I am 9 years into my journey and I should make a few things very clear. I have established healthy habits and I am still lured by temptation. The only reason I have not gained all the weight back is because of the Holy Spirit and His restraining grace.

“The Holy Spirit causes our hearts to abound in grace and the fruits that are contrary to the flesh, and the fruits thereof and principles of them. He is the fire which burns up the very root of lust.”

John Owen

I recently explained to my grandfather that when I first began to walk and weighed 310 pounds, I listened to my bible as I walked up grueling hills. I hated to exercise so much that I needed God’s voice in my ear urging me forward. I knew He was the only one who could save me from the pit of food addiction–indeed from any and every addiction. And He did. One step at a time. One healthy choice at a time. And because he saved me from the miry depths of despair, I found a sweetness in relationship with him that I never knew before. Because only by experiencing the agony of crucifying my passions did Jesus become more real and innately precious to me.

Dear reader, if you are fighting addiction today, He is the only one who will give you sustaining relief AND joy in the process. Once I learned that abstaining from gluttony gives my Father joy, I found what truly motivates me to smear those homemade-straight-from-the-oven brownies in Bad Leroy Brownie’s face.

If you are reading this today and have an “impossible” addiction, take heart! Cry out to Jesus. Surrender your life to Him. Ask him to cure the sin in your heart and save you. He can do this. You can stop. He will help.

And lest you think I’m full of really stinky beans, I’m fighting today myself. I shoveled too much snow and then went sledding–landed hard–and bruised my tailbone. So I’m fighting self-pity–not with brownies–but with the precious Word of God. And this is how I punched Bad Leroy Brownie in the jaw and sent him reeling…Psalm 34. Because that is my weapon of choice today. And dear readers, it is very, very sharp!

In Hazzard County, they do things different. Two of its residents, Bo and Luke Duke, are cousins who fight the system. They confront the evil machinations of Boss Hogg—the corrupt county commissioner who owns most of the property and businesses in Hazzard. Bo and Luke are “good old boys” with “hearts of gold” who genuinely want to confront evil and overcome it. They are frequently undaunted in their courage as they chase down Roscoe P. Coltrane—Boss Hogg’s deputy—and stop him from perpetuating Hogg’s greedy schemes.

Many of the Dukes escapades involve car chases (overdubbed by playful bluegrass music) in their souped-up Dodge Charger, the General Lee. While driving they exchange funny quips like this:

Luke: “You know, Bo, you could lose your way on a racetrack.”

Bo: “Burt Reynolds never seems to get lost.”

Luke: “He’s got a mustache.”

The Dukes of Hazzard had a pretty big impact on my formative years. I was five years old when the first episode aired and eleven when the boys retired from television. I was captivated by their cuteness and inspired by their spunk. They were my underdog heroes and I adored them.

But I learned some things from the “good old boys” that maybe weren’t so, well, good.

I learned from the Dukes that we can balance the scale of iniquity as long as our intentions are generally good. In real life we call this compromise. Their story begins with Bo and Luke on probation for five years for running moonshine for their uncle Jesse. Many of their escapades involve similarly shady dealings and they are often enticed into situations that make them violate the terms of their probation, such as helping “Swamp Molly”, an old moonshining friend of Jesse’s, make one last run. They do this because Molly once saved Jesses from the Fed’s and he “owes her one.”

This is a familiar TV show tactic. The reformed bad guy is tempted to relapse out of guilt. On a show like the Dukes of Hazzard, the “good guys” usually wiggle out of their conundrum with a little elbow grease and a grin. In dramatic films the storyline serves as an object lesson, such as the character of Carlito Brigante, as played by Al Pacinio in Carlito’s Way. The reason why these stories are dangerous is that we learn compromise is okay as long as the ends justify the means.

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? I the Lord search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds.”

Jeremiah 17:9-10

Another problem is that our small compromises often turn into big compromises. When we rationalize one behavior we are quicker to rationalize others. Compromise in the area of living a healthy lifestyle leads to regression. One cheat day turns into two and then ten, and finally abandonment of a healthy lifestyle altogether. If for no other reason, compromise is hazardous to your health!

Compromise also fuels greed; one of the significant themes that run through the show. Boss Hogg is blatantly greedy. He is frequently shown wearing a bib, eating fried chicken, and concocting plans to get richer than he already is. He is a horrendous hypocrite and never takes responsibility for his bad behavior. If not for those “meddling kids” he would make life a living hell for the residents of Hazzard County.

So when Boss finally gets what he wants—the deed to the Duke’s farm—via foreclosure, it is with a certain sense of irony that Boss learns he has a terminal illness and will probably die within two weeks. He suddenly gets really scared of eternal consequences and decides to change his ways. Boss gives the deed back—at least until he finds out his diagnosis is a mistake
—then he reverts to his evil ways once again. And since greed is very entertaining, we are all somewhat relieved to see Boss scheming for how to bilk folks and torment those Duke boys once again.

In real life greed is vile and evil, not a punchline for a joke. Greed prompts us to steal office supplies from our place of employment. It whispers that we can be married and sleep with the next door neighbor. It tricks us by inciting illicit passions that cause us to eat the whole pizza, not just one slice.

Greed fosters the mentality that we can get something for nothing. The Lottery and gambling establishments would not exist if not for greed. Simply put, greed is a black hole that takes but is never satisfied. It exists because of our sin nature and is only quenched by replacing false pleasures with real ones. 

Sin is always acting, always conceiving, always seducing and tempting.

John Owen

Like Boss Hogg we rarely confront our greed until we are faced with the consequences of our behavior. Greed is hazardous because it promises more while delivering less.

Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane has a famous saying, “Cuff ’em and Stuff ’em!” He says this every time he apprehends someone. But frequently the apprehended parties (usually Bo and Luke Duke) wiggle free and poor Rosco is left stuttering in the dust and scrambling to catch up. This is how we generally manage our hazardous behavior. We make a valiant effort with our weak and floppy hands to get our raging appetites under control only to watch our resolve crumble when real temptation strikes. The cycle of guilt and shame erupts around us in a cloud of dust and chokes us half to death. But there is a better way.

The beautiful message of the gospel is simply this: life and peace. When we ask Jesus to be Lord of our lives we experience the incredible joy that freedom from sins entails. Television programs like the Dukes of Hazzard are fun to watch but they reinforce a wrong idea; namely, that God is boring and wants to stifle our good time. They celebrate ideas like compromise and greed. They enchant us with cute characters that blur the lines between good and evil. Unfortunately, sometimes they encourage us to believe we can save ourselves.

I’m not saying all television and movies are bad. I enjoy a well told story. In fact, I still enjoy watching The Dukes of Hazzard. But I love Jesus more and He has opened my eyes to the hazards some programs promote.

Jesus wants to manage our mischief for us. If we surrender our will to him, the fruit of our trees will be love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. (Galatians 5:22-23) This does not mean will are free from temptation. It simply means that He sends the Holy Spirit to help us in our weakness. If we know Jesus and do not cling to this promise, we need to pray for more grace to help us better understand it. In my case, for far too many years I made a habit of loving my sin more than I loved God. I did not understand the beauty of friendship with God and so I choose food and many other vices that kept me in a perpetual cloud of dust. But once I had exhausted my store of endurance and began to learn how to lean on the everlasting arms, I found a love sweeter than chocolate and more satisfying than ice cream. I invited God to walk with me and to teach me how to love him more than cookies. Only then did he set me free. If you are reading this, no matter what hazardous lanes you have been driving in, he can set you free too!

Today I encourage you to get out of the danger zones and manage your mischief permanently! Surrender your life to the giver of all good things and discover the wonder walking with him entails. You will never regret it.

Well, I have almost survived the holidays without gaining weight. But wait! I should have lost weight. Alas, but I ate! Yes, shortly after my last post I became stressed to maximum capacity with holiday preparations and buried my head in a pan of homemade brownies. I’m not proud. But I figure if I’m going to be honest about living a healthy lifestyle, I must also share when I fail to do so.

While we enjoyed fellowship with family, family dysfunction, and turkey, (turkey is an excellent coping mechanism by the way) it is clear that the feasting must come to an end and the exercise regimen must resume.

This morning I climbed out of bed–fresh from a visit to the family farm–and realized it was time to work off some of this blubber. I have a Nordictrack elliptical machine I bought off Craigslist a few years ago that resides in the dark corners of my basement. I use it the most in the winter when it’s too cold to ride my bicycle. And since it was raining this morning, I decided it was time to re-familiarize myself with the machine.

I want to state for the record: the machine is not my friend.

This is not an infomercial. I don’t go down into the bowels of my home with a cheery smile and a skip in my step. I walk down the stairs with the sound of shrieking violins playing in my mind. I imagine Freddy and Jason have become pals and are standing next to the machine while they invite me to come play. And that is why every time I choose to use the elliptical machine (of doom) I procrastinate.

It took me an hour to move furniture and sweep the basement. I hoped cleaning dust and dirt off the floor would help declutter my mind and make using the elliptical less torturous. For context, I hate cleaning only slightly less than using the machine.

My son was watching cartoons but I made him turn them off. Using the machine requires intense concentration and I cannot afford distractions. Even the slightest irritation will cause me to “go off the rails.” Which is why I always read John Owen when I’m on the machine. I focus wholeheartedly on the tasty truth of overcoming sin and temptation so as to somehow avoid the revenge of the machine for at least another week.

Of course half way through my workout my third born son decided to play with the boxer dogs. The next thing I knew there was a volleyball under the track and I was in jeopardy of wobbling, falling, and breaking my hip. I may have shouted a curse word, but since no one recorded and uploaded it to social media, it didn’t really happen. I will admit, however, that my already elevated heartrate broke records previously unsurpassed in the history of Wolfinbarger workouts. Freddy and Jason thought this was hilarious.

Now, I want the dear reader to understand that I don’t look like those women on the Nordictrack commercials. They look cute when they wiggle. I probably resemble Cathy Bates from her appearance in About Schmidt (though I have never watched that film). While I was sweating and trying to breathe, I promised myself that I would never, ever eat brownies again. And while the machine was extracting its pound of flesh, I held on like an action hero clinging to the bottom of a helicopter while it is taking off with his woman inside. Except it looks so much cooler when Chuck Norris does it. Obviously, he never had a C-section.

After the machine was done with its dastardly work, I collapsed into a puddle onto the floor. My son said, “Mom, are you still alive?” I responded by blinking my eyes a few times. I was still unable to speak. Meanwhile my doggies ran over and rolled all over me because they seemed to think it was time to cuddle with the puddle of sweat.

Today I survived the revenge of the elliptical machine. But if anyone sees a headline next week that reads, “Woman Dies After Elliptical Machine Catastrophe”, rest assured they will show a cute smiling picture of me that was taken while I was not using the machine.