The sun mustered an appearance this morning with a hint of lavender on the horizon. There was no dramatic splash of color or display of azure blue with fluffy white clouds to entrance me. There was only the blackness growing grayish until finally fading into a murky gray blandness atypical of November, not March. I found myself searching the horizon for a glimmer of hope because the wind was particularly harsh and I was pedaling my bicycle uphill against it. Did I also mention it was cold and my toes were numb? Now this might seem brave in the reading of this, but it certainly didn’t feel brave in the moment. In fact, I rather wished someone would pull up next to me and offer me a ride. I gladly would have taken it.
Sometimes discipline feels akin to insanity, a detail not frequently unnoticed by friends and acquaintances. If I measured the number of times people have said to me, “Margaret, you’re too hard on yourself!” I might be able to retire early (or at least pay for an extravagant vacation in some remote tropical locale). Such is the condition of modern American culture that we disdain the monotonous hard work necessary to achieve a desired result. Efficacy in the area of personal discipline frequently looks like a sprint uphill that ends in a nosedive into the dirt as we tumble back down. The unenviable backslide is not so much discussed as the kick-off or the finale. The slow and steady slog in between is boring and—if I might be so bold as to say it—hard.
I’ve been fighting the shameful backslide mentality for what feels like ever. I coast along with discipline for a while and then inevitably stumble across a batch of cookies or ice cream and even up with a nose full of dirt. Eventually I end the binge. I gather my wits and pride and try for the hundredth time because freedom is on the other side of my slavery to food. Such is my cycle of never-ending hypocrisy. What I am learning on this particularly mundane stretch of road is that I don’t have to cave in to my fleshly cravings. This realization has empowered me to resist the idea that I have no control over my thoughts or desires in regards to food, exercise, or basically, anything harmful to myself and others. Does it require intense mental focus? Yes. Does it require preparation and planning? Yes. Do I always feel like it? Heck no! Am I doing it anyway? Yes.
The three letters of the last word in the previous paragraph encompass a mentality many people are unfamiliar with. We have become entirely too comfortable with dismissing shameful behavior. We shrug it off as uncontrollable(which is a lie). Lest I state these things too bluntly, let me remind the reader that I am foremost guilty of committing abominable atrocities for the sole purpose of self-gratification. It takes a great deal of preparation and planning to commit shameful acts. They did not stumble upon me! I got into to the car and drove to Pantera’s Pizza and consumed all I could eat from the buffet and guzzled a liter of Pepsi. I then drove back to work stuffed and nearly sick but still consumed an entire bag of Nestle Caramel Treasures. And that is only a 2 hour window into the average day-in-the-life of Margaret Wolfinbarger via just a few years (and pounds) ago. The shameful mentality required to maintain the attitude that I was powerless over my food addiction was exhausting because I was constantly perpetuating a lie. I lied to myself and others and could not understand why I did not achieve different results. Think of it this way, if I planted a kernel of corn, why would I expect an apple tree to pop up?
Now I must disclaim that not every obese person eats the way I did. Some people really do have hormone imbalances and cellular diseases that prevent them from possessing slender-ish bodies. This is not meant as an indictment on heavy people. I am, however, indicting the shameful selfish and self-centered mentality that produces many forms of obesity. To worship at the altar of food to the detriment of one’s body is nothing if not shameful. One might argue that harming oneself doesn’t hurt anyone but oneself but that is a lie too. We all live in community together and our decisions always have consequences. I have friends whose children have committed suicide. Other friends have children who are addicted to drugs. People in my own family are alcoholics(albeit currently sober). And more recently, I lost a cousin to a drug overdose. Human beings do not live in silos. Our choices DO affect those around us whether we want to acknowledge it or not. And yes, this applies to even our food choices.
Think about this conversely. People commend me on my discipline and ask me to share my story with hopes that my success might inspire the same in them. People also pay good money to hear a motivational speaker. They are often so inspired by the speech that they go out and buy the book. If we can be “motivated” to live a healthy lifestyle by way of someone who has succeeded, we can also be “motivated” to live an unhealthy lifestyle by those who choose indiscipline.
I am ashamed of the ways I have harmed my family and friends via my foolish choices over the years. I have learned that acknowledging shame provokes a change in me. Because I am constantly striving to reverse the damage done by shame, I find myself almost perpetually “sober-minded”. This sober-minded mentality rubs people the wrong way. It may be that they don’t understand it. It may even be that they feel convicted by it. But I am convinced that without it I will not advance on this journey to learn discipline. Course corrections come about because of shame-filled pits. If I want to avoid them, I must go a different way.
Does this mean I never have fun? No. Does this mean I am always successful? No. Does it mean I’m going to give up any time soon? With the Lord Jesus’ help, I hope not!
Without shame I would not strive to do what is right. The wound must be diagnosed before a cure can be pronounced. But the beautiful news of the gospel is that for all of my failed striving I am loved enough to be redeemed anyway, and daily given extraordinary grace to keep walking the gray and slogging path. This means I can rejoice when I am saying no to cookies I very much want to eat and yes to a cold and windy bike ride because it forces me to draw nearer to my Savior for help. Yes, shame is powerful and important, but especially in regards to the knowledge that it can be overcome and even erased. To remain in that place of shame is folly, but the knowledge that I am not a slave to it is even more wonderful.
Sometimes the cold and windy days hit like a sledge hammer. They pound and flatten everything happy in my heart. But even then I am reminded of the promises of my King. He has never failed me. He has been by my side every step of this journey and with his help I have accomplished much more than I ever would have dreamed. When I was overweight, I honestly never believed I could live a healthy lifestyle for the rest of my life. Now I know differently. Yes, I had to experience the shame of choices that led to obesity, but then because of His extraordinary grace I was privileged to experience the joy of overcoming it.
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