God and Donuts

“Only take care, son of man, that you don’t rebel like these rebels. Open your mouth and eat what I give you.” (Ezekiel 2:8, MSG)

This morning I ate six donuts. After the sixth, I got a spoon and scraped the sugary, oily glaze off the bottom of the empty box. Doing this broke several of the commitments I’ve made to God and to myself regarding food & nutrition, and already I can feel the unpleasant side effects starting to take shape. It is safe to say I am not at my spiritually (or physically) healthiest this morning.

The part of me that likes to make excuses says, “Well, eating six donuts certainly is preferable to drinking or putting other mind-altering substances in my body. God can forgive this.” Perhaps this is true. After all, God forgives everything. But getting down to the bottom of it, I didn’t need to eat the donuts at all. It was a cop-out, a diversion, and in its own way, abuse of a mind-altering substance. How about that? Donuts are a mind-altering substance. A lot of food can be. Especially for people like me who struggle with various forms of food addiction and eating disorders.

With all of the spiritual, therapeutic and programmatic tools I have for addressing and dealing with stress and difficult situations, why did I feel the need to plow through a box of donuts? It’s worth examining. Was it rebellion? An act out of anger at the situation presenting as the stressor? Was it simply not having the energy to exercise impulse control?

From the moment I made the conscious decision to get in the car to go buy donuts, I knew it was a bad idea. With every bite of each of the six donuts, I hated what I was doing. The act also brought to light an interesting revelation: eating the donuts opened a door for self-loathing and flagellation, things which now I strive to avoid doing, but once defined a comfortable misery in which I lived. Yet another indicator of an unhealthy spiritual condition. Being hard on myself is easier than being hard on anyone else.

So why did I do it? I honestly believe it comes back to rebellion. Given that I knew what I was doing with every step and bite I took, I have to believe it was rebellion. I’ve seen how well I’ve managed the impulse control recently with food, so I really don’t feel I can blame it on that. It was rebellion. I was unhappy with how a situation presented itself and, in anger, I ate donuts at God. I did not eat and enjoy them with God or bless God for them or bless them as gifts from God; I ate them in open defiance, eating them at him. As with anything that happens in that manner, though, I only harmed myself.

Withholding forgiveness and giving into certain temptations can bring about the same result. We get angry with a spouse, so we drink to get back at him, yet we harm ourselves. We get angry with a sister, so we stop talking to her to get back at her, yet we harm ourselves. We get upset about something at work, so we take it out on others in our job, yet we harm ourselves.

There is a quote I’ve heard repeated several times that says, “Not forgiving someone is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Well, not forgiving God is like eating six consecutive donuts and waiting for him to feel sick, get bloated, experience a sugar crash and not fit into his jeans.

It’s okay to get angry with God. What’s not okay is to cause harm to myself or others because I don’t like how life came at me on any particular day. What’s not okay is forsaking working toward being a healthier me because I’m upset about something. I am human; I will fall. But every time I recognize my fall, I have the opportunity to turn my face upward, reach out my hands and say, “Okay, that was dumb. Please help me get up and please show me how I can do this better next time.”

My prayer today is that as I find the strength to ask God to grant me grace in dealing with myself, that you also find that grace. May we find the grace to forgive God for not giving us life as we pictured it and may we find the grace to forgive ourselves for the negative ways we respond when life gets hard.

Amen! =D

Room Full of Boxes

“From the ends of the earth I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for you are my refuge.” (Psalm 61:2-3; NLT/NIV)

When life gets overwhelming, I like to use my “Room Full of Boxes” analogy. I came up with this analogy during a particularly difficult move. I got all of my things moved into my new home and unpacked the essentials, then left most of my stuff in boxes in the spare room and closed the door. Every time I opened the door and saw all the boxes, I felt overwhelmed. For months, my response was to close the door and pretend the room did not exist.

Finally, one day, I summoned my courage, breathed a prayer, opened the door and pulled out one box. After that, one box at a time, I finished unpacking.

Life is a room full of boxes. At any given time, I have boxes to unpack. They may be work boxes, family boxes, financial boxes, relationship boxes... When I get stressed and feel like I’m in a situation where several decisions need to be made at once, I want to close the door. I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know where to start, I don’t want to do it, so I’ll just ignore it.

The problem is that closing the door to the room full of boxes doesn’t make the boxes go away. Neither does ignoring or delaying addressing issues that present themselves in my life. The more I resist, the harder it becomes, the more overwhelmed I feel.

It can be crippling.

So how do I combat the room full of boxes? The first thing I do is acknowledge it. Acknowledging the situation(s) making me feel overwhelmed takes away some their power. The second thing I do, when I stop being stubborn and willful, is to give it to God. “God, I feel overwhelmed. Here is my situation. I feel a little lost and like I don’t know where to start. Please calm my soul and show me the way.” Then I open the door and ask God to help me see one box at a time.

It is freeing.

“Do you not know or have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth. He never grows weak or weary. No one can measure the depths of his understanding. He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless.” (Isaiah 40:28-29; NAB/NLT)

If you find you are battling a room full of boxes today, feeling overwhelmed, lost and like you don’t know where to start, invite God to the doorway. As you stand together in front of the closed door, tell God about the room. Tell him about the boxes and what’s in them, then tell him about your heart and where your mind is. Take a few moments of quiet to feel him as he smiles at you and places his hands on you, reassuring you. Then, with his loving care surrounding you, take a deep breath, open the door, and reach for the first box.

My prayer today is that I invite God to my room full of boxes, trusting that he alone can show me where to start, trusting that he can help me unpack my boxes, trusting that he can give me strength to finish unpacking. God you are good and the source of all things good. I give my room full of boxes and my weary, burdened heart to you. Thank you for your endless mercy and grace, and your patience with me when I choose to be stubborn in following your lead.

Amen! =D

Run with Endurance the Race

“At the time, discipline isn’t much fun. It always feels like it’s going against the grain. Later, of course, it pays off, for it’s the well-trained who find themselves mature in their relationship with God. So don’t sit around on your hands, strengthen your weak knees. Clear the paths for long-distance runners so that what is lame may be healed.” (Hebrews 12:11-13; MSG/NAB para.)

Currently, I am training for a big run. As part of a twelve-person team, I will participate in a 200-mile relay race in less than two weeks. Before I started training in January, the last time I ran was in June.

One of the first things I had to learn as I began to train was to work on my words. I had to stop saying, “I’m not a runner.” Saying that diminished and devalued any attempt at progress I made. Instead, I worked to say, “I’ve not previously been a runner, but I’m running now,” thus affirming myself in my training.

The next great obstacle was my body, which did not want to run. For the past couple of months I’ve battled discouragement while nursing tight calves, weak knees and ankles, struggling lungs, misaligned hips and shin splints.

While running, to combat the pain and the negative attitude that tried to win in my mind, I turned to prayer. At first I tried sticking with gratitude lists, but eventually my mind fell to a mantra of brief, repetitive God-praising phrases to egg me on and keep my mind focused solely on God and not on my discouraging thoughts or resistant body.

Then came the moment when I ran my first full mile. Not long after that, I ran through two miles. Not long after that again, I ran three miles.

Triumph. And only with God.

I still battle pain and discouraging thoughts. It’s difficult to fit training into my schedule, and the shin splints won’t seem to go away even though I’ve given them rest and tried other methods for healing. But come hell or high water, I’m running in that race. The experience of disciplined training and having real, tangible evidence of progress and what God makes possible is more rewarding than I could’ve expected. For that, I am incredibly grateful.

Up next: a sprint triathlon this fall. I feel a little crazy to consider it, but I’ve seen from these past couple of months what God can do with me if I let him. (I’ve also realized that the only way I apparently have the discipline to work out or get any exercise is if I’m training for an event.)

“Let us strip off every weight that slows us down. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith. Think of him and you won’t become weary and give up.” (Hebrews 12:1; NLT para.)

My prayer today is that I place Jesus before me at the finish line and at all points along my runs so I can see and hear him cheering me on and see him jumping up and down at the finish line, just waiting to lift me up in his arms after I cross it, embracing me and telling me, “Well done.”

Amen! =D 

Beautiful Things

“This is what God says, “Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.” (Isaiah 43:16A, 18; MSG)

Lent corresponds with spring in such divine design. The shells of the dead of winter begin to fall away, and where there was a lack of life, life begins anew. Although this inconsistent winter is confusing even for the plants, which keep trying to bloom before the cold is truly gone, seeing those blooms reminds me that the bleakness of winter is almost behind us. During this season of self-examination I have the opportunity to shed things of the past and reach forward for the new life God works in me.

I am blessed to be a part of the praise and worship team at my church. We have a lot of favorite & familiar songs we love to play, but every now and then one of us will bring in something new to try. Last night I brought Gungor’s “Beautiful Things”¹ to the group. It is a simple, sweet song with a powerful and meaningful message. The moment I first heard the song it touched my heart. The opening lines speak to my core: “All this pain / I wonder if I'll ever find my way / I wonder if my life could really change at all...” The gist of the song is about the possibility of new life, that God makes things new, that he makes beautiful things out of us – his beloved children.

I wrote recently about God not choosing the most well-to-do or put together people to carry his message.² Generally, it seems God rather likes messes. The stories and major players throughout the Bible can be inspiration, reassurance or hope for us all in that we do not have to be slave to our human condition if we only turn to God. It’s as though he says, “Wait and see. Just look what I can do with YOU.”

He makes beautiful things out of us.

No matter how broken, how rebellious, how messy, he can make us beautiful. No matter how far we’ve fallen, how far away we’ve run, how many mistakes we’ve made, he can make us beautiful. No matter how dark, how lonely, how hopeless… He can make us beautiful.

“He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” (Isaiah 61:1-3; NIV)

“God, you are our Father.  We’re the clay and you’re our potter:  All of us are what you made us. Show us the way [you] work so we can live the way we’re made.” (Isaiah 64:4; 1:3; MSG)

My prayer today is that we let God, the great and masterful artist, work his beauty into us. May we allow him to form and shape us into his perfect image, into a design specific to each and every one of us, his beloved children. And then, may he grant us strength and courage to live the way we’re made!

Amen! =D

¹  Gungor’s “Beautiful Things” music video

² Dim Bulbs

Dim Bulbs

 “Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses?” (1 Corinthians 1:26-28; MSG, para.)

Sometimes I need to sit and remember where I was and who I was when I stepped across the line into this God-obedient life. At my core, I’ve always been me; this person who lives my life now always has been in there. It’s just that it was buried under layers of depression, persecution, addiction. And as I still struggle with being human – selfishness, insecurities, distraction, rebellion – there are moments I wonder if I’m really cut out for being a messenger in this God-life.

But God uses the dim bulbs to show how bright his light can shine.

How powerful the story of a person so beaten down who rises up in hope and light and goodness once he surrenders to God! How powerful the miracle of one who was so very lost and living in darkness who finds healing in Jesus and is forever changed! Flipping through the Gospels, the pages are littered with exactly these stories. The blind, the lame, the lepers, the tax collectors, the prostitutes, the dregs of society – these were the people to whom Jesus was the closest.

Going back through the Old Testament, the story isn’t much different. Time and again, God chose the weak and insecure to do his greatest works. Jacob was a liar, Moses was a murder and fugitive who couldn’t speak well, Gideon was insecure, David was an adulterer¹... The list goes on.

God doesn’t choose the squeaky-clean to carry his strongest messages.

Holding myself to high standards, it’s easy to feel like a screw-up and a failure. What I forget in my humanity is that God finds strength in my weakness. If I am strong on my own, what need have I of God? I was broken that I could be mended, wounded that I could be healed and mired in darkness that I might come forth as a bearer of light. 

“But he said to me, “My Grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.” Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ’s strength moving in my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size – abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10; NIV/MSG)

My prayer today is that when I feel weak I remember that in my weakness, God shows his strength. May I remember that the core of my message lies in the miracle of healing by Jesus, who brought me forth from darkness into light, pulled me from the depths, resurrected me from the dead.

Amen! =D

¹ Genesis 27; Exodus 2:11-15; 4:10-12; Judges 6:15; 2 Samuel 11:2-5