Blog - Destination Discipline

Hope Stands in Defiance

On January 23, 2018 / The Journey / Leave a comment

“The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.” Marcus Aurelius

The color of the sky shifts with the wind. One moment the sky is gray. The next minute it is blue. Last night I stood and stared at the post-sunset sky and marveled at the varying shades of gray. Great billowy white clouds had marked the day, but in the night they were more ominous as they punctuated a restless sky. As cooler winds chased away warmer temperatures, I search for the waxing crescent moon but instead found only a tapestry of cloud cover. Still, my hopeful heart was undaunted. I knew the moon and stars were only out of sight and not gone forever.

I have struggled in recent days to feel hopeful. Not unlike those heavy clouds, the stresses of life have been threatening. Events like the death of a good friend, deadlines at work and anxiety that causes restless nights. My would-be productive days are instead wrecked by exhaustion. I’m certain the dear reader could insert his or her own set of faltering circumstances. Beth Moore’s beloved bird dog was torn apart by coyotes. Others watch a child endure painful cancer treatments. Death looms. When it strikes it forces us to pause and grieve, but then we have to go on living.

Have you ever grown tired of your circumstances, thrown your hands into the air and said, “I’m done!”? I had a moment recently when disappointment fueled a sharp burst of anger and prompted me to collapse into my chair. My thoughts caved in like an avalanche, along with my steely resolve. I said to myself, “What am I doing here? I don’t like this place. It’s messy and uncomfortable. I want to leave!” I looked out of the window at a blue sky and was tempted to run. The problem is, I may be able to run away from my location but I can’t run away from myself.

Knowing that I should not physically run away at that point in time, my mind drifted to other “reliefs”. Wave after wave of wanting ice cream swept over me and I was overwhelmed with desire. I know in my mind, however, that ice cream will not fix my situation. And so I buckled myself into my uncomfortable seat and prayed, “God help me!” And when the feelings did not subsist, I turned to the walls around me, screaming in my mind for relief. Such was the weight on my shoulders that I wondered how I could possibly move forward and not give in.

The book of 2 Corinthians starts with, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction…” I read and re-read those words. One could say I chewed on them. And, if I am to be totally candid, I held onto a cookie. I wanted to trust God to walk with me down the painful path but I needed the cookie too. I stood at the edge of an emotional cliff and knew I had to decide to stand firm or jump.

I know what jumping feels like and so I reviewed the many years I spent “jumping”. In the blink of an eye I saw myself lying in bed with M&M’s. I saw the White Castle chocolate shakes and romantic comedies. I saw Molly Ringwald, Eric Stolz, and Johnny Depp. They promised an escape which never came. I saw failed relationships on which I had hung so much hope. I saw sex and babies and the shiny new job that was so filled with promise. And that is when, with great determination, I turned away from the cliff.

The comfort spoken of in 2 Corinthians is real and true but it does not always relieve the physical agonies we face. The burden of depression and anxiety, for example, do not respond well to words written on a page. They argue back. And that is why this past Sunday morning I peeled myself from beneath my bed sheets and climbed aboard my bicycle rather than going to church. I needed medicine that would not be found among people. I find no guilt in resting on Sunday, even if the rest is only for my mind. I put on my favorite audible book and listened to the story of one of my heroes, Jim Elliott, and his singleness of purpose to live his life fully to the glory of God. When I lose hope it helps me to look to the encouraging stories of others who have persevered and pushed through.

Now maybe you are reading this and thinking that the Bible is not true and filled with inaccuracies. Or maybe you believe there is no God. And you might even think I’m a wacko that’s been brainwashed by cultish believers with an underlying agenda to undermine society at large. To this I would say that I am humbled and honored that you have read this far. Maybe you saw my picture and saw hope in my weight loss story. Maybe you are so far from hope that you are grasping at straws that you could ever find one ounce of strength to choose not to eat the ice cream. I write this with tears because I know how that feels. I feel it now. There is one reason and one reason only that I do not: Jesus.

Society swirls around me with all of its false hopes: Atkins, Keto, Hydroxycut, and a billion more. But the added agonies you may not be aware of are for people who lose the weight and still feel hopeless. That is when the temptations rush back in with their “promises” for relief. After all, if I’m going to feel like garbage in my heart and soul, why not eat the ice cream? (which is why I regained the weight after I lost it in 1999) That is why I cling to my love for Jesus. He is the One who opened my eyes and saved me from that cycle of addiction. He’s doing it still. He is the only reason I haven’t regained all the weight (again) and my only hope in the face of every adversity.

The world makes empty promises, but when the God of the Bible makes a promise, He keeps it.

Around 700 BC a man named Micah prophesized about a ruler that would be born in Bethlehem. He promised peace. Jesus was born in Bethlehem, just as God promised. And, quite amazingly, He offers the hand of friendship and the peace that passes understanding to those who love him and follow him. That’s it. There is no hidden motive other than a relationship with God. Some people don’t want it and I understand and respect that decision. I only write in this venue to offer hope to those who are struggling—including myself. We are not alone in our struggles. There is hope and there is help.

I am frequently guilty of allowing my thoughts to be colored by the thundercloud grays that have lined the skies in recent days. My feelings have powerful sway over my body in this regard. But when I set my thoughts higher—when I focus my attention on the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep (that’s me!)—I can’t swallow the false promises any longer. They don’t satisfy me. I need real promises.

Through the providence of God, I did not eat the ice cream and I threw my “emergency” cookie into the trash. (It was my favorite too–chocolate chip!) Hope stands in defiance of lesser things. Hope shines through the darkness when all the other lights have gone out. Hope pursues seemingly insignificant people like me and saves them from addiction, depression, suicide, and even guilt.

Today if you have lost hope, take heart. Hope in Jesus. He is easy to find.

The Cure for the Common Cookie

On January 1, 2018 / The Journey / Leave a comment

“The will is a rational appetite—rational as guided by the mind and an appetite as excited by the affections, and so in its operation or actings has respect to both, is influenced by both.” – John Owen

We are mere hours into the New Year and the annual advertisements for weight loss programs are in full swing. The expectation that Americans have over-indulged during the holidays is taken for granted. As we less-than-eagerly approach our closets, having disposed of the evidence of our indiscretions, we glance balefully at the mirror and sigh. We always seem to succumb to the notion that celebrating means feasting and thus capitulate to the suggestion that we must reduce our waistlines. It is almost as if we have lost the capacity for independent thought in our willingness to become conditioned by marketing.

But since our pants are tight and the sales are ramping up, we may as well plunk down some Christmas cash on the newest supplement/gym membership/diet fad. Because diet and exercise alone require a commitment that is beyond our short attention span.

But not so fast! Have we forgotten last January or the January before that? Shall we recall the gym membership we paid off but only took advantage of a handful of times? Do we remember the fridge full of shakes or the bottles of pills that were guaranteed to speed up our metabolisms? Sure, we lost a few pounds, but when we wearied of restriction we ran back to our vices and refused to drop another dime on something that not only made us miserable, but wasted our time and money in the process. Suddenly our hopefulness turns to helplessness and before we can say bariatric surgery we have collapsed into the couch with a tub of buttered popcorn and the intention to numb away our self-awareness with the latest episode of Stranger Things.

Somewhere along the way we have forgotten that human beings are of sound mind and can face adversity rather than surrendering to despair. Hope is a choice much like love is a choice, but we will never develop our mental faculties in this regard if we continue to sulk in the corner of our self-made prison and pretend we don’t stink. Fantasy has robbed us of reality and it’s time to wake up and smell the moldy bag of cheese puffs.

“But I’m addicted to sugar!”

I was enjoying a festive New Year’s Eve when I turned into the biggest jerk I know. A friend of mine was talking about his journey with Type 2 Diabetes and the various medications he takes to control it. He said his doctor was nothing more than a pill pusher and he doesn’t think he needs all those drugs. He had just finished telling me about his short stint in the ER earlier this year because his A1C was over 13. Without checking my tongue I blurted out, “You just need to give up sugar!”

He didn’t throw anything at me but his eyes twitched and his mouth made a firm line.

I recovered with, “I know. It’s easier said than done.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve got a real sweet tooth.”

What I should have done was looked down at my shirt to make sure my cookie crumbs weren’t showing. After all, I’ve been eating a handful too many each night for the past few weeks with no end in sight. I keep promising myself I’m going to quit, but then around 10:00pm each night they start singing their sweet temptation song, and like the defenseless sailors who sail the high seas, I respond to the siren song.

I regret my words to my friend and wish I could unsay them. Today I can only offer my penance by way of this… Hello, my name is Margaret, and I too am a sugar fiend and diet hypocrite. When I consider my own powerlessness in response to sugar, how dare I sling such casual fare in his direction?

In retrospect, I should have offered something more helpful, but I try not to give advice when it is not solicited. I am well acquainted with the “stop preaching your healthy lifestyle at me” look of death. So I suppose I can respond here on my humble blog and I will start with myself.

I have not gained a tremendous amount of weight over the holidays (about 5 pounds) but it’s not the pounds that bother me at this point in my journey; it’s the knowing I have lost control of my will. I know in my heart that I will fall prey to compulsive eating if I don’t find some way to manage my mind.

I would start to feel anxious except I realize I am not helpless. I do not have to give in to temptation. I will not die if I don’t eat cookies but I do need a strategy. So I do what I always do when I am seriously struggling, I sit down to read, meditate and pray. First and foremost I focused on a passage I read in “Mere Christianity” not long ago on chastity. C. S. Lewis illustrates so well where we must begin.

“Before we can be cured we must want to be cured. Those who really wish for help will get it; but for many modern people even the wish is difficult. It is easy to think that we want something when we do not really want it. A famous Christian long ago told us that when he was a young man he prayed constantly for chastity; but years later he realized that while his lips had been saying, ‘Oh Lord, make me chaste,’ his heart had been secretly adding, ‘But please don’t do it just yet.'”

How many times have I promised myself that I would not consume certain foods only to give into temptation at the earliest opportunity? I crave my secret rendezvous and secretly opine for my moments of salivary solace. Much of my relationship with food centers on my physical propensity toward anxiety and the opiate sugar is for my brain. Unfortunately the sugar fuels depression and thus repeated consumption kicks off a fierce cycle of addiction.

Early on in my journey I found it difficult to fall asleep when my brain was screaming for sweets. Can there be any more helpless feeling in the world than realizing one is powerless over their body? But as I worked through each evening, praying for help to resist the compulsive eating tendencies, I found that it was possible to fall asleep without snacks. Make no mistake, it was difficult. I had to tell my body that I could live without M&M’s and Nestle Treasures. I had to memorize Bible verses to replace the maddening thoughts that wracked my mind and heart. But I was desperate to escape the prison that was my body and I refused to be a slave to my flesh any longer. This re-training of the mind was integral to exercising, making healthy food choices, and recovering when I made poor choices. It is the formula I follow when I go off the rails and the prescription most necessary for anyone who wants to make serious changes in a life marked by physical and spiritual anarchy.

Elisabeth Elliott discusses it this way in her book, “Discipline: The Glad Surrender” in the chapter titled, “The Discipline of the Mind”. She uses II Corinthians 10:5 as a guidepost when discussing a particularly stressful situation, “My thoughts had to be brought into captivity over that one. The taking of captives is not a gentle business. They don’t want to come.” Many do not want to acknowledge loss of self-control as sin, but I have to in order to put my body and mind in uniformity with my will. I have a deep love for Jesus and a great respect for what he endured on the cross on my behalf. I am certain he did not suffer and die so that I could live a life crippled by food addiction. I memorized Titus 2:11-15 a few years ago in the hopes that I could apply it to my life. This is one of the lessons I have to frequently revisit, but that’s okay. Maybe one of these days I’ll learn it forever and refuse to put processed sugar into my body ever again.

John Owen is one of my favorite authors and I have been digesting the 12th chapter in his epic work, “Indwelling Sin” where he discusses the success of the deceit of sin in its conception. His discourse on the consent of the will has been very helpful in my resolve to stop over-indulging. He says, “There is nothing in the soul itself that remains to give check unto it when once the will has given its consent.” And then he goes on to say that when we neglect our duty in preventing sin, we give implicit consent to our will. In short, we must prepare a response to temptation before it occurs. And then, lest we despair in the midst of it, we must remember that “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.” (I Corinthians 10:13)

I may have lost some readers at this point. John Owen’s writing can be very dense and then there is scripture, but I think the important thing to know is that if we want to break the cycle of addiction, we must formulate a plan and stick to it. I could not have lost 140 pounds without God’s help. My near constant suffering in the first few months alone was balanced only by the immeasurable grace given because I chose him over food. This may sound archaic and rigid, but adhering to godly principles led me straight out of the valley of despair and into a freedom I never imagined possible. God’s love has sustained me where cookie dough and ice cream never could. And while the great puritan writers like John Owen prove difficult to decipher at times because we are unaccustomed to study in a culture defined by instant gratification, we have much to learn from them about training our minds. If we do not, we will never escape our vices and find the true and lasting peace that comes from loving God more than ourselves.

Finally, I’m not sure my friend would appreciate this advice and guidance, but it has proven helpful on my journey. Also, it certainly seems like a good place to start the New Year. Today if you are struggling with an addiction, there is hope. You are not abandoned. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. And lest you think that escaping the prison cell of obesity or heroin addiction or an insane need to buy expensive shoes, take heart! Help is only a prayer away.

Retrospection, Reflection, and Resolutions

On December 31, 2017 / The Journey / 2 Comments

I have arrived at the last day of 2017 with little aplomb. I went to bed early. I woke up later than usual. I went to church. And I’m currently listening to my youngest child read a story. In short, just another Sunday.

The last day of the year, people tend to celebrate “New Year’s Eve.” They reflect on what happened and what they want to change in the “new year”. There is usually special food and drink and many people stay up until midnight to imbibe. I’m a morning person and evenings are difficult for me, but I’m going to try, though I’m not really sure why we do this. The sun will complete its rotation whether I stay up to watch or not.

There is, of course, the “new year’s resolution” that tends to celebrate the course correction we want to make. I’m usually working on the things I don’t like about myself daily so the NYR isn’t a focus of mine. Still, I can appreciate that we have encountered a number of events that I wouldn’t care to repeat. Mainly, I want to celebrate each day I’m alive because I am all too aware that I may not be here tomorrow.

One of the resolutions I could make, if I was making any, would be to listen more closely to those who live with me. This morning I asked my husband why we wish each other a “Happy New Year”, considering the word “happy” stems from the word “happenstance” which means “a chance circumstance”. All things considered, I’d rather make a more intentional wish for people in the New Year than, “I hope you have more favorable chance circumstances.” My husband said, “Margaret, it means fun. You need to have more fun.” I said, “You know, you’re probably right!”

This morning I rode the elliptical machine and read one of my favorite authors, John Owen. He can be particularly challenging to understand, but when I focus I learn more about myself reading his works than any other author I have read—which is the point. How can I correct those issues if I don’t examine myself? Today I contemplated my will in response to the conception of sin in my heart (James 1:15). I’m still fighting with my stubborn will and I suppose I always will be.

A big focus of mine in 2017 has been learning the 10 commandments and trying to keep them. I failed many times over, but each time found incredible joy in knowing that the grace of God has appeared in the form of Jesus who made atonement for each time I failed. When I consider him suffering for my willful failures, I weep. I look forward to the day when I won’t break his heart with my sin any longer.

Yesterday I had the pleasure to visit with my grandpa for a few hours in the rehab facility where he is recuperating after a bout of bacterial pneumonia, kidney failure, and an infection in his blood. He is 86 years old. His arms are swollen and he can barely lift them, but his faculties are sharp and we discussed religion for a time.

Rehab facilities are sobering places. He talked to me about the people in wheelchairs who are unable to perform basic self-care activities. He openly wondered why they must live and suffer. He contemplated his own death and recounted to me the various blessings he is the benefactor of in his relatively short life. He came from very humble circumstances and now owns and lives on a 180+ acre farm. In short, he has prospered and feels extremely blessed.

He has had several near death experiences. “They have recited last rites over me several times,” he recounted. He was accidentally shot in the side when he was a boy. He fell off a cliff as an old man and cracked his head so hard spinal fluid leaked out. He said, “St. Peter doesn’t want me yet.” I replied, “God is giving you more time.” He also said all the priests and pastors had been visiting his room—one for every persuasion, even some women. “I guess they thought I was a goner.”

He is staunchly Catholic but has read much of the Old Testament and says “reading too much of the Bible can make you crazy!” By that he meant it begs more questions from the reader than it provides answers for. But he also confessed that he never read the New Testament and I encouraged him to do so. I personally feel like the Bible answers most of my questions and it gives me great comfort. I sure enjoyed spending time with him. I even gave him more cookies. The food in the rehab center is terrible. He said they made biscuits and gravy but there was no meat in the gravy. “Terrible stuff,” he said. “I couldn’t eat it.”

Tomorrow is 2018 and just another day in my opinion. I’ll get up, workout, read a book, and probably get annoyed with my children. Such is the luxury of American life. Today I’m counting my blessings for I surely have much to be thankful for. The too many cookies I consumed recently means I’m not starving but that I’ll have to work harder to re-break the sugar addiction in the next few weeks. I do resolve NOT to make Christmas cookies next year. This obsession with cookies is ridiculous. Colder weather means my friendly outside adventures will be more introspective in nature and filled with lots of step aerobics, high impact cardio and elliptical machine of doom (pure torture!). Shorter and colder days mean I’ll be longing for summer months and working hard to fight against the SAD (seasonal affective disorder) that plagues me in winter. But while I’m thinking about changes I’d like to make, I do resolve to love more and better, care for others more than I care for myself, and keep pressing forward to learn discipline. I’m still on the journey and doing my best to enjoy the scenery.