This is a post about overeating. But it applies to lots of things. My husband pointed that out.
A few weeks ago I was doing laundry, and I was thinking about cakes, and frostings, and cookies, and chocolate, and other delicious gooey things. As I had done many times over the past several months, I felt resentment toward God when I thought of these foods. Why? Because why shouldn’t I dang well be able to eat whatever I want? Why doesn’t God want me to have any fun?!
Let me explain: In May I was reading the book of Romans, and I had just read the part where Paul encouraged us to give our bodies to God as a living sacrifice. I reacted to that passage in my diary, interpreting it to mean, among other things, that I should turn over control of what I put in my mouth to God. I wrote that I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that. (I was just being honest.) Because then He won’t want me to eat cake with two inches of frosting. Well, maybe occasionally, but not 2-3 times a day like I want to.
Thereafter I’d been rebelliously eating like a pig, because I wanted to eat whatever I wanted, without anyone–not even God–telling me otherwise! I couldn’t bear the thought of God saying I couldn’t have a Sonic Fried Ice Cream shake. I didn’t want to deny myself. I wanted control of what I put in my mouth.
A few days before the laundry ruminations, I’d gone to my counseling class and there were brownie bites on the table. When I saw them I said, “Aw, who did that? Oh well, I have no choice …” One of my classmates said, “Yes you do have a choice!” I quickly popped the bite into the mouth. “Oops, too late!” I said it all jokingly, but I felt like it was true: I had no choice. They were in my face! After class, I took two more brownies on the way out.
Back to the laundry. As I was putting the detergent back on the shelf, filled with indignation toward my Father, I had a ridiculously obvious revelation: I didn’t have control. I’d been so determined to have it, but I’d totally missed out on the clear truth that I’d given it up. And worse, I’d given it up to frickin’ brownie bites and things of that ilk. BROWNIE BITES! How am I in control if, whenever I see cake, I have to have it? If I’m so much in control, then what the hell happened to my ability to say no?
Then God asked me a simple question: Why was I fighting Him so hard over garbage? Those things look good and taste good, but they’re NOT good. Yet I’d fallen for the lie that my way was better than His and that He was just out to ruin my fun. The result was that I was out of control, having given it away to a deception.
The fact is, I cannot control myself when it comes to junk food. For me, it is a HUGE temptation, and it has the potential to put a barrier between me and God. So I have only two choices: Tell myself I’m in control when I know dang well I’m not, or let God control it.
Plus it’s been very helpful to remind myself when I crave garbage, that it is–in fact–garbage. My Father wants what’s best for me, and in asking me to eat better (which, if I never clarified, He has) He’s not trying to ruin my fun, but vastly improve my life.
See how that applies to more than overeating? Thanks, Derwin, for pointing that out.