Cravings

Posted on March 13, 2011 by Margaret

I’ve battled the bulge my whole life. Even in childhood photos I was the “pleasantly plump” one, but once I reached high school, plump wasn’t pleasant.

Before college, I dreaded gaining the “freshman 15” but fell in line with the averages, finding those 15 and a few more. Transferring schools the next year must have given me unconscious permission to do it again, because I found another 15 at my new college.

Senior year I got serious about my eating habits, trying one fad diet after another: grapefruit and eggs, meat only, cabbage soup. Then came food-substitutes in the form of drinks, cookies and frozen bars. And when I got desperate, there was fasting.

But each diet was just a stepping stone to binging, because all that deprivation led to craving comfort. And what better comfort than food? The lost pounds always came piling back, and by graduation, 200 pounds was in my not-too-distant future.

I thought about food non-stop, what I should or shouldn’t eat, how long since I last ate, when I could eat next, what I would eat that I shouldn’t, and on and on the mental dialog raged.

Marriage and seven babies didn’t help. After each pregnancy and birth, stress-eating packed on another 10 pounds during the baby’s first year.

Eventually it was, “Welcome to menopause,” when a woman’s hormones go through a second adolescence, but backwards. It’s fruit-basket-upset time, and nothing that worked before, worked then.

Sometimes I think about Eve (of Adam-and-Eve fame). When God put them in his garden, food was abundant, and they ate as much as they wanted. They’d never tasted Krispy Kremes, biscuit gravy or Snickers bars and had unspoiled natural appetites for the fruits and veggies around them.

God gave them taste buds, a sense of smell, and eyes to appreciate the food available to them. They probably oooh-ed and ahhh-ed as they discovered the tartness of a pineapple, the scent of a strawberry and the green of a kiwi. The fact that eating was made to be a thrill for the senses was God’s special gift to us, although it came with the caution to be self-controlled.

But anything good can be made bad by taking it to an extreme. We can spend too much time, money, energy and focus on behavior not meant to dominate us. It isn’t God’s fault. We’re the ones who turn blessings into curses.

Although I’m thinner now than in past years, it’s probably a byproduct of Nate’s absence. Because he’s not coming home to share dinner as he used to, I don’t cook much. Even so, I still play endless mental games with food and must repeatedly submit to God’s headship in this area. None of it is easy.

For all of us who have to wage war against appetites that are difficult to control, serenity will one day come. God will defy the odds and make all things good again, including our appetites. And from what I hear, the all-you-can-eat heavenly banquet table is going to be absolutely sumptuous!

“All a man’s labor is for his mouth, and yet the appetite is not satisfied.” (Ecclesiastes 6:7)

Far Far Away

Posted on March 11, 2011 by Margaret

This afternoon I enjoyed an hour on the phone with Nelson when he called from the New Zealand base of Youth With A Mission where he’s working. New Zealand is about as far from Michigan as anyplace, but the connection between our two cell phones was flawless, as if he was calling from next door.

After we talked about incidentals, we got into a meaty conversation about committing our lives to Christ and what that means day-to-day. We agreed it’s a rare moment when any of us is 100% committed. Most of us hold back a few things we’d rather not surrender, leaving us maybe 98% committed. So, is there a loss for such an almost-committed person?

We agreed God usually lets us do our own thing but then might withhold the empowering he was ready to give us if we’d been all-out for him, the Spirit-power to accomplish something amazing with eternal benefit to ourselves or others. We agreed it’s possible to be 100% for a day… or maybe an hour… or more likely two minutes. It’s the thought-life that smudges us and brings us down.

I love talking to Nelson about spiritual things and miss our nightly conversations in front of the fireplace. Actually I miss conversations with all of my kids, especially when we “go deep” like we did today. It’s satisfying to wrestle together with some of life’s thorny issues, particularly when Scripture factors into the discussion.

I like to say I have 7 + 2 + 5 children: 7 kids, 2 in-law children and 5 grandchildren. And 13 of those 14 live far, far away.

Klaus: 1 mile(s)

Lars: 95 “

Birgitta: 255 ”

Linnea and family: 1160 ”

Hans and family: 3941 ”

Louisa: 4418 ”

Nelson: 8838 ”

Today while talking with Nelson, I tried to think away from the knowledge that he was almost 10,000 miles away. Dwelling on the distance of my family members is non-productive. It’s actually unnerving.

A better idea is to enjoy a good cell connection and a lengthy conversation. A wise friend once told me, “Receive what you’re given and don’t wish for more.”

Always wishing for more comes naturally, but unfortunately, that mindset erodes the value of what’s currently being given. It’s also a good example of holding back 2% from God.

I can bellyache about my kids being far away, focusing on the negative, or I can delight in their frequent calls, emails and thoughtful attentions toward me. I can be thankful they work hard at staying current with each other and that no barriers lie between any of us. I can appreciate that each is working hard at a meaningful pursuit. I can rejoice in phone conversations of substance, and be glad they all come home whenever they can.

And tonight I can smile broadly, knowing Birgitta is driving in my direction, as she begins her spring break!

“Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.” (Colossians 3:15)

Believing the Truth

Posted on March 10, 2011 by Margaret

Yesterday while grocery shopping, I bought a box of succulent strawberries. They were bright red, plump and had deep green “mustaches” that weren’t too big. Tonight, after thinking about those berries all day, I fixed myself a generous bowl-full.

As I cut them up, I wondered how they could travel from sunny Florida to snowy Michigan and look like they’d been picked an hour ago. And then I took my first bite. The berries were sour and nearly tasteless, nothing like what they appeared to be. Even a spoonful of sugar didn’t make them go down very well.

It comes naturally to trust in what we see. Eating sour strawberries has no moral consequence, but the principle of believing that everything we see is reliably true can have devastating results. So how do we know what to do?

We need a measuring stick by which to evaluate the choices we make. I think of Nate and his fatal cancer. Although his health declined radically each day, he never once panicked over his approaching death. He was nervous about his escalating pain but made the choice not to question God’s plan for his life, and death.

I find this extraordinary, but his peaceful demeanor wasn’t just an accident. It was the byproduct of a belief in the truth. He put his terminal prognosis next to the measuring rod of what God said, which was that he’d still be alive after he died physically, and that life would be good.

As we get closer to the Easter season, I’ve been thinking about the famous conversation between Jesus and Pilate shortly before Jesus was killed. Pilate, trying to figure out what the Jewish leaders were so upset about, sought clarification from Jesus. The conversation went something like this:

Pilate: Are you the king of the Jews?
Jesus: Is that what you think?
Pilate: I can’t think like a Jew.
Jesus: My kingdom is not of this world.
Pilate: So you are a king, then?
Jesus: I was born to testify to the truth.
Pilate: But what is truth?

Just when Pilate was about to get the answer to that critical question, he terminated the conversation, giving the order to kill Jesus. If Pilate had been listening to Jesus’ teachings during preceding months, he would have heard him answer that last question with the words, “I am… the truth.” (John 14:6)

And that’s where the buck stops. Right at Jesus. Nate believed in something, in someone, he couldn’t see, and that knowledge of unshakeable truth gave him a peace unexplainable by human standards. It wasn’t, “Maybe I’ll be ok after I die,” or “I sure hope I’ll be ok.” It was, “I know for sure I’ll be ok.”

Listening to Jesus and living according to biblical truth isn’t easy and almost always goes contrary to our natural instincts, but if we do it, the end-result will be even sweeter than a bowl of perfect strawberries.