Destination Discipline

“I made a mess of me I wanna get back the rest of me. I’ve made a mess of me I wanna spend the rest of my life alive.”- Switchfoot – Mess of Me 

 Have you ever had an itch you know you shouldn’t scratch because you know it will only itch more? Think…poison ivy. Eczema.  Psoriasis. Chigger bites.  Intense scratching is what you want to do more than anything in the whole wide world but when you do there is no relief. That’s how I feel today. My itch is big—way bigger than chigger bites—but I’m not scratching. And I’m about to lose my mind.

“But Margaret,” you say, “this is what calamine lotion is for. Don’t you have any hydrocortisone cream? Or maybe you should call your doctor and get some steroids. Steroids are amazing for relentless skin afflictions.” And this is where I respond by slapping you across the face and then shrieking, “Give me some ice cream now before my brains explode.”

*Margaret breathes deeply and tries to compose herself but instead dissolves into tears.*

15 minutes later…

Sometimes it feels like there is no relief for killer cravings. They pop up out of nowhere and attack ones sanity. One sips hot tea or water, chews sugar free gum, and basically endures second after minute after hour of relentless torment only to be met with more agonizing want. The hunger for “that thing” gnaws at your resolve like a wiry squirrel chomping at a bird feeder. The mind begins to rationalize and pretty soon you are convinced that consuming the forbidden food is worth breaking every goal you’ve set if only to relieve the itch for a few minutes. But I am here to tell you it is not.

You see, I don’t like squirrels. In fact, I own a squirrel trap. And I’ve become pretty adept at capturing those suckers when they begin to malign my bird feeders. Yes, I know they are living creatures. Yes, I know they get hungry. The thing is; I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, they all deserve to die. The only good squirrel is a stuffed squirrel. Or squirrel stew. Or a squirrel-skin cap. And this is the part of the blog where I break out my bb gun and pump it a few times. Cause I’m out for blood. Squirrel blood that is.

That is how serious I am about denying ones cravings. And if the bb gun doesn’t do the trick, I’ve got a hatchet, a hammer and a saw.

People used to tell me, “Margaret, you need to treat yourself. Nobody can deny themselves all the time. You’ve done so well. Here, have a piece of cake.” They stopped saying those things to me when I got that crazy look in my eye that seemed to say, “Do you have a death wish, Squirrel?” Because I don’t take kindly to sabotage. Cue the soundtrack to my life every time a commercial for Hershey’s holiday kisses comes on.

So here’s the situation. You’re in full blown craving mode. That itch is red hot and trying to burn your house down and all the weapons you’ve thrown at it have been consumed. You are standing in line at Chick-Fil-A. There are three customers ahead of you in line. The servers can’t wait to have the pleasure of making you fatter. What do you do?

Walk out of the damned door.

Get in your car.

Turn on some Beastie Boys and head bang your heart out.

Cry. Moan. Honk your horn at unsuspecting little old ladies. Scream if you have to. But do not eat the ice cream.

This is war, folks. You don’t win wars by losing battles. Just ask George Washington after all the other companies wussed out at the Delaware River.

Today I went to war with the squirrel. He was gnawing at my innards and I took him out with the shot gun. (the bb gun was too small!) Now, maybe you are thinking that’s a little extreme. Nope. That squirrel was rabid and set on pissing off my pants. Yes, I’m cussing. These is fighting words. I like my pants loose and happy—not tight and vicious. When I was a kid, my dad never cussed except when he got really mad. And I knew when he used the word “pissed off” it was serious. I’m using it today. (Thanks, Dad!)

Today, if you are tempted to scratch that itch, break out your shot gun.

Tell that damned squirrel to piss off.

I know he’s giving you lip. He’s telling you that you aren’t strong enough to abstain any longer. He’s nibbling at your guts and squeaking, “You can’t take me! I got you over a barrel. You NEED it.”

Well I’m here to tell you the truth.

You don’t need it.

You are strong enough to abstain.

You will only feel worse if you indulge.

Eat a grapefruit. (or any kind of food on your approved list)

Cuss and cry out for help.

Call a friend.

And then do the next thing.

Is that strong enough tonic for ya? Well is it, Punk?!

“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.

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.