Destination Discipline

Have you ever woken up and realized the desperate state of your life? Maybe it is the terminal illness of someone you love or your own wasting body. Maybe it is the moment you realize you can’t fix your addiction. Maybe it is a broken and bleeding heart. Have you prayed for God to take your affliction—to heal your beloved—to heal yourself? And the answer you received was a slow and steady no. Many people have rejected faith in God because of that answer, not realizing that they end up settling for life in the shadows. We do this because the pain hurts and we want to run away from it. But I would postulate that we run from the very thing that would save us.

I watched the first installation of the new Gilmore Girls series on Netflix last night. It was delightful. I looked with wonder at the snowy scene of Stars Hollow and marveled over each detail. From Lorelei’s first inhalation of snow-scented winter to the closing scenes where she realizes she has been tricked into counseling with her mother. What an amazing journey these characters have been on over the years. From joy to sorrow, from broken hearts to love, we have watched and waited and cried…

…over a television program.

Fiction though it is, I believe there are nuggets of truth in that show that matter. Family is precious, even when we don’t agree or see eye to eye. Love and sex are not the same things. Our peculiarities make us who we are – unique, fascinating, obnoxious. I loved that program in its inception because single motherhood resonated with me. I watched and waited for Lorelei to find the “holy grail”; i.e. true love with Luke. And watching the “Winter” episode definitely pointed to their happy union. I believe the reason that show works well is because of the aesthetic—beautiful small town filled with quirky residents that showcases people with genuine struggles fighting the fight to find and give love. But at the soul of this episode is something each character has had to come to terms with, how the death of a beloved character has impacted their lives.

Death is the inevitability all of us face, and our response to it matters.

Each day we spend on this planet we come into contact with what I would call the little death: SUFFERING. Physical pain. Relational pain. Emotional pain. Monotonous pain. It is at times so profound that we will do anything within our power to escape it. And interestingly enough, many of us think we are immune to it. I would even venture to guess many of us are in such a state of denial that we pretend we are not suffering at all. We paint our faces, put on snazzy clothes, buy a nice car and drink our diet coke from a PETA koozie cup. Then we quietly thumb our nose at our neighbor because their koozie cup isn’t as awesome as ours. We hold it up and shout, “Look at this koozie! It’s bedazzled! And its purchase saved an elephant tusk.” Then we settle in with a Stephen King fantasy novel. At the end we close the book and say, “Phew! I’m glad that’s over with.”

We have gotten so good at pretending the little death doesn’t exist that we have to read stories about it.

And by so doing, we reject the most glorious, the most precious, the most wonderful and amazing anecdote to the little death that has ever been given, God himself.

I have been digging at the root of my sin for a few years now. What is it? How do I find it? How do I pull it out? Some people that I love very much have criticized this need to quench the fire of sin as me “being too hard on myself” or “not accepting the grace given to me via the death of Jesus”. And it’s interesting to consider where I started on my journey to learn discipline(as it pertained to overeating) to where I have arrived(at a place where I still overeat). That is why I began reading John Owen. After all, how in the world do I eliminate this dreadful curse?

I initially perceived my sin as the compulsion to overeat. Then after I learned how to eat healthfully and lose the weight, I realized I was merely plucking fruit from the tree of my sin. There I stood in all my lush greenery, throwing apples(my compulsion to eat) into a bucket while nurturing my pride(as big as an oak). But I don’t have the luxury that others have of looking at myself and thinking I solved the problem. I can see the truth about my heart. I became painfully aware that losing weight was only the beginning of plucking fruit so I decided to pick up the shovel. And that is when I realized something extremely important…

Suffering is a gift.

I used to think pain was God’s way of punishing me but now I realize that if God truly hated me, he would leave me the heck alone. This little death that I face is the means by which he lavishes love upon me. How do I know this? Is it because I’m a masochist? Do I like my lashes and say, “Thank you, Sir. May I have another?” No. And many times no. I hate to suffer. But by suffering I have learned to turn my eyes to the only thing that brings true and sustaining joy, Jesus Christ.

I was waiting for a friend in a restaurant today when I heard a catchy song, the refrain of which was, “Where have all the good guys gone?” Those lyrics resonated with me and I found myself emotionally invested. Then I heard these words, “if we are all in the gutter, it doesn’t change who we are, ’cause some of us in the gutter are looking up at the stars.” Yes we are. We are all lonely and sad and looking for a hero. We are all looking for love. We are all looking up to the stars.

I’m dying. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But make no mistake, I am dying. I feel it. I want to avoid it. But no matter what I do it is unavoidable. The only hope I have as a human being is to live each day by dying well. I can pretend I’m not dying. I can choose not to think about what happens next, but the little deaths I experience make it impossible. I see my helpless estate and I long for a hero. So why do I settle for anything less than the biggest, brightest and best “superman” there is? I’ve been doing it for years. With every bite of chocolate, every act of lust, ever angry word I ever spoke. I keep trying to save myself even though I know I can’t.

But I am learning that the little death that precedes the big death is actually a foretaste of the Father himself. Each pang is a blessing in disguise. The Bible calls it discipline and says God uses it to bring us face to face with him.

Hebrews 12:5-6 “And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons? “My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by him. For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.”

Nobody likes discipline(the little death/suffering). And we all long to be loved. It is the fundamental need of my soul to be loved for who I am. When I think of all the years I spent languishing with insecurity, I grieve. I should have been rejoicing in the steady hand of love reaching out to hold me. Instead I kept smacking it away while screeching, “I hate you! You are so mean!”

Last night we came face to face with the knowledge that there was no dessert in the house. My children began to have spasms of the mouth and limbs. Such words and contortions filled their senses that I worried they would get brain aneurysms. My husband, frustrated by the commotion, offered up his secret stash of candy bars to the flustered juveniles. They pounced, but I stood up to my diabetic 8-year-old and said, “I don’t want you to eat that. It will cause problems with your blood sugar.” You see, even though I can give him insulin for the sugar in the candy bar, his body doesn’t process it properly. He gets hyper, anxious and his blood sugars rise and crash(just like anyone who consumes sugar). He fought back. I argued. He sobbed. I stood firm. He screamed at me, “You are so mean!” I said, “I am trying to protect your body from harm. I know the candy bar will hurt you and I don’t want that to happen. And finally, after a lengthy discussion, Ephraim made the decision to eat the candy bar and accept the consequences while I looked away with tears. It was a grim reminder of the many times God has told me no, I insisted on saying yes, and ended up facing the painful consequences. But now I can see how God didn’t run away angry and hide his face from me because I was acting foolish. Rather, he was waiting for me to see what I had done to myself and how very much he wanted to cradle me in his arms and wipe the chocolate from my face.

Love is not usually what we expect it to be. We get our ideas of love from a box full of glittering lights. That is an illusion. Real love protects, seeks out, comforts, restores, and fills our senses with wonder. Real love gives the gift of the little death in order to show us the means by which to access real, soul-satisfying love. If you have not experienced this kind of mind-blowing, supremely satisfying love, and you claim to know Jesus—I’ve got news for you: You don’t know him at all. If you are walking around complaining about the little death, you haven’t seen the face of the one who conquers through it.

Today I found the root of my sin—something I’ve been digging at and trying like hell to pull out for as many years as I can count. I see it there—pulsing—like some alien monstrosity. It was uglier than I expected, and most decidedly black. And I realized with horror that I’m not strong enough to pull it out. I suppose in the beginning I thought I would be, but I can’t. It’s too massive—too hideous to touch—too full of poison. But rather than throw dirt back over it, rather than sigh and concede defeat, I looked up.

And there He was. He had that look about his face that seemed to say, “Well, would you like my help with that?” And I fell on my face and sobbed. Yes. Yes I would. And thank you, Daddy. Thank you for all the little deaths you sent to help me find it. Now please take it away. Bury it at the bottom of the sea. And please, like Corrie Ten Boom said, place a sign over it which reads, “No fishing allowed.”

Sometimes I look at myself and think, wow, did I really do that? Did I really lose 140 pounds by diet and exercise? That is just incredible! Now, maybe you are thinking, “Gee, Margaret. You are one big jerk. I want to lose weight and I can’t. It’s impossible. And here you are bragging about it. Holy Moses! You should just shut up and go gain 40 pounds because you annoy me.

I’m sorry I annoy you. People that lose weight and keep it off used to annoy me too. When I used to encounter them, I only wanted to give them a swift poke in the eye. So when I say that I am amazed at my story, it is only because I really like to eat. And sometimes it feels surreal that I can eat until I am full and not gain all the weight back. Also, I marvel at my own story because I still struggle with overeating, regaining weight, and trying to lose it again. I didn’t take a magic pill that allowed me to lose the weight and keep it off. If I don’t want to be really fat, I have to keep working at it. This is real life. But what I will say is that it is worth it. All the sweat dripping and salty tears have paid dividends in good health. So today if you are thinking about changing your lifestyle(not going on a diet–diets never work), keep reading. I want you to know that living a healthy lifestyle might be more achievable than you realize, and it only requires changing your thought processes regarding how to go about it.

Three days ago, Thanksgiving heralded the great turkey of gladness. You have to understand that I love to eat turkey. Sometimes I feel guilty about this because turkeys are probably really nice if you get to know them in person. So for the purpose of this blog I will have to suspend my sympathetic turkey emotions and focus on how I got through Thanksgiving without gaining 5 pounds.

I was eating leftovers on Friday when it occurred to me that I needed some fudge. I grew up with the great delight(read horrible curse) of homemade fudge around the holidays. One of my very comforting habits was consuming vast amounts of turkey and then chasing that with homemade fudge. So when the urge came over me to make fudge and eat it until I could not eat any more, I got sick. Literally sick. My knee jerk emotional response to craving fudge sent me straight to the bathroom where my turkey threatened to come back up. That is how terrified I was of falling back into that pattern. I say all of this to make very clear that lifelong habits do not just disappear. Memories are potent and powerful. In order to lose weight and keep it off, you must deal with those emotions. Face them. Stab them with your steely resolve and conquer through them. That is the very beginning of your journey.

In order to see the truth about your situation, you must look honestly at yourself. Take off the pretty bow you wrap yourself in when everyone is watching, and really look at who you are. Is this who you want to be? Have you settled because changing would be too difficult? That is where my journey began. I knew my life was a mess. I was miserable resting in my nest of lies, but worse, I couldn’t break free because I couldn’t even see that they were lies. I had to (slowly) learn to see the truth. The truth was, I was very fat(310 pounds to be precise). I hated not being able to wear normal-sized clothes. I hated that people treated me poorly because of my weight(fat prejudice is real). I wanted to lose weight but I “needed” my favorite foods because they comforted me. I didn’t know they were killing me. I really didn’t. And I didn’t want to know, which was a large part of the problem.

The very thought of living without my cache of candy freaked me out. So when I got pissed off enough to consider trying to lose weight, the very first thing I did was consider how I would cope without my continual sugar intake. That was when I knew I had to give up sugar cold turkey. I didn’t even think about all the calories I was consuming–I saw only that I was a serious sugar addict and I had to stop. Now maybe sugar isn’t your problem. That’s for you to ascertain. I only knew that I needed to change my life and sugar was an all or nothing proposition. I chose nothing.

(*disclaimer – any foods containing refined white flour, white rice, pasta, corn syrup or refined white sugar ARE sugar)

I also knew fast food was high in calories and that had to go too. No more White Castle runs. No more soda. Thankfully, I never even considered diet soda because, to be honest, I never liked it. Today I realize what a grace that was as I see so many friends addicted to their diet beverage of choice. I have since learned diet soda is filled with nasty chemicals that prevent weight loss.

Then there was the exercise situation. Just ugh. I knew I needed to workout but I honestly would rather have eaten worms than join a gym. I didn’t want people staring at “the fat girl”. Been there. Done that. Lost a lot of money not weight. I considered that I hadn’t spent a lot of money gaining the weight(other than on food) and thus I didn’t want to spend a lot of money to lose the weight. Yes, I’m a miser. So that left working out at home. I didn’t have money to invest in workout equipment but I figured I could walk around the block. At least that was cheap. Shoot, it was free! And I like free.

When I considered all of these things, I hadn’t even changed my lifestyle yet. I was simply thinking about the things I could do that might help me lose weight. I never actually thought it was possible. I just knew I really wanted to try. But the most important thing I did happened before I even bought one healthy piece of food….I prayed. You see, I saw the desperate situation I was in and I knew I couldn’t do it by myself. What I did know was that I really loved God and I had this vague idea that He loved me too. I also knew that the Bible said I could do all things through Christ who strengthens me(Philippians 4:13). I knew I was missing something about how to tap into that strength and so I asked for help. To recap, I knew I “couldn’t” give up the foods I loved(lusted over), I “couldn’t” exercise, and I knew I was vastly unhappy. Also, I had seen and read about people who were disciplined and I knew I really wanted to learn how to discipline my body. So my prayer was simply this, “God, would you please help me to learn discipline?”

Writing that now looks so odd because even back then I equated discipline with spanking or shouting–not abstinence. And abstinence was what I was aiming for. I felt like an alcoholic choosing to quit drinking–such was my addiction to sugar. So I started reading about sugar addiction and I learned so much about myself and my behaviors. Refined sugars are toxic to the body–a fact I never knew or even considered. As soon as you consume them, your body starts fighting to get rid of them. I learned about blood sugar spikes and the insulin response. I learned that I was living in a severe state of dehydration(I never drank water). I was so often eating when I was actually thirsty. I had to learn the difference between thirst and hunger. And early on I was simply amazed when I found that I didn’t need to eat very much to be full and satisfied. I learned fruit was sweet on its own(no more sugar on strawberries!) and actually good for my body. Learning was really fun because it gave me hope. Hope fueled my journey more than any thing else.

But the most important thing I realized about my situation was that overeating was sin. How did I know that? Because food controlled my life. I was absolutely, 100% out of control. I didn’t want to eat dozens of cookies at a time, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt great while I was eating them(blissfully numb) but I was completely enslaved to the habits. I would spend hours baking. My knees hurt. I couldn’t bend over without hurting my back. My knees throbbed. And still I would keep baking for the big payoff–eating until I was sick. Also, I didn’t like to share. I would eat dozens and allow my children only 2 or–if they were really lucky–three. I was greedy and selfish and just an overall mess. And I knew it was sinful. And I knew it had to stop.

So when I read Romans 6:12-14, I knew I had to memorize it in order to remind myself what I was dealing with. I knew that if Jesus died for my sin and I was no longer a slave to it, He could and would give me the strength to stop sinning. I typed up that verse and hung it over the kitchen sink. When I was tempted to bake cookies or eat foods filled with sugar, I read it–many times with tears streaming down my face.

So there you have it. It’s not a 3 step or 7 step or even a 10 step process. There’s no supplement you have to take or magical, motivational spiel. It’s just the truth as I have learned it. I think this is why Jesus said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth and the truth will set your free.” In Jesus I have found freedom from slavery to sin via food. Not that I have attained perfection. I am still dealing with my sin and various temptations(which is why I read John Owen). But He gives me the strength to keep fighting to honor Him with my body. If you believe in Him and ask for his help, He will help you too. No matter what sin you are struggling with. And that, my friends, is my un-step guide to learning how to live a healthy lifestyle.

“Be killing sin or it will be killing you.” John Owen

“But Mom, I’m really good at being lazy.” These words spewed from my 15 year old son when I asked him to help me with a task yesterday. I was rushing through food prep and trying like crazy to be on time for Thanksgiving dinner. I just needed some quick help and got a snarky response instead. And while one can chalk it up to teenage hormones or the all-around general bad attitude that flows from the “typical” teenager, I hated to hear those words. Because to celebrate laziness is to buy the lie that its okay.

I feel like I am in a constant war with laziness. Be it my lackadaisical attitude toward my diet, or trusting too heavily on robust workouts to balance out my poor food choices, I have noticed that my overall tendency to replace diligence with apathy is the overarching indicator that I’m pretty good at being lazy too. Because I have felt the static in the air lately, the barometric pressure of fleshly comfort pulsing against my skin in that taunting way that warns and beckons at the same time. I could see the black storm clouds rolling in and I knew I needed to grab an umbrella, or take shelter, or pray. But the excuses piled up, and doing the work of walking to the closet and pulling out the rain gear felt too arduous. So I found myself wandering around in the wind and rain, crabbing about my wet clothes and sulking under the weight of a heavy heart. And I feel pretty silly writing all of that down when I obviously know better.

And I don’t need a bathroom scale to tell me any of this. The lack of joy alone is disturbing, but when peace evaporates too, I know I’m in real trouble.

If spiritual cleanliness is next to godliness, then spiritual laziness is next to godlessness. At least that’s what I think John Owen was trying to say in his epic work, “Overcoming Sin and Temptation.” The battle rages ever on and if I am not fighting, I am losing.

Romans 8:13 “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.”

One of the fruits of sin I fight against is obesity. So when I am lazy with my thought practices and make poor food choices(like bingeing on my child’s Halloween candy), it’s no surprise that my clothes get tight. But it’s also wrong to to use my waistline as a key indicator of the deep roots sin has in my life. Food is an idol, but so is self. Worshipping myself by eating too much is no different than worshipping myself with a perfectly trim body. Self-worship is my natural tendency and stepping outside of myself is what I have to do to conquer. And since there is nothing inside myself that will save me, I have to turn to my Savior.

Yesterday I jogged/walked in a 5K with the family of Shawn Daugherty. This young man lost his life in a tragic accident on the highway not far from my home. I wrote about his death on my blog before I knew he was my neighbor. He lived directly across the street from me and I came to know his family in the months following his death. They live with his loss every day and the 5K is a means to remember/commemorate his life. I was chasing my 8 year old son when he cut down a side street off the main route. He had seen all the others running and wasn’t fast enough to keep up. He was disheartened because he wanted to win(one of his mom’s pies) and knew he couldn’t. I let him take several shortcuts but made it clear that because of them, he would never win. His ensuing lecture was revealing.

Ephraim insisted that taking shortcuts was exactly how you win, no matter how much I tried to tell him otherwise. And while he eventually came to terms with the fact that he wasn’t taking a pie home, I was fascinated by his logic. He felt that if no one knew he was cheating, it wasn’t actually cheating. I told him God is always watching, but even short of that, Ephraim knew he was cheating, and that’s all that really mattered. A dishonest win is not a win at all. He didn’t agree with me but I am confident he will learn this over time. He is simply fighting the war against sin and self–making his desires more important than others by disobeying the rules of the game. The conversation reiterated to me that I must teach him how to fight against such faulty thinking or he will be forever plucking at the fruit of his sin rather than digging it out by the roots—as I did for so many long and agonizing years.

This war against self is brutal and reminds me of a sermon my then pastor preached years ago on Good Friday. It is etched into my brain because of the great hope it gave me in a particularly dark time in my life. Dave Greiner talked about the darkness of that Friday on Calvary–of the apparent victory of the hosts of hell when Jesus hung dying on the cross. He was quoting someone else when he shouted, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming.” He went on to talk about Jesus coming back to life after having lain in a tomb for 3 days. That is the Christian’s only hope. And if it’s not true, we truly are the most unfortunate of followers. Because if Jesus did not rise from the dead, our faith is in a fallacy. I thought about that sermon this morning as I considered my spiritual laziness and the hope I have in one day being free of this dreadful body. It was that analogy that reminded me that I won’t be forever struggling, fighting, and waging the most brutal of battles against myself. One day, I will be free. In other words, Sunday’s coming!

Today is Friday. Today I am fighting against the temptation to let my flesh win. I don’t feel particularly strong or mighty, but I am fighting anyway. Corrie Ten Boom spoke three brave and true words in the notorious concentration camp, Ravensbrook. She said, “Jesus is victor.”

In the war against sin and self, I find those three words to be wonderful because I know them to be true.