Power over Sugar

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I love sugar, especially candy. Cake and cookies are right behind it. I call them my “Three C’s,” and if I could remain healthy doing it, I’d eat nothing but.

The sad truth is that none of these are good bodily fuel. None provide energy, strength or nutrition, and I know this from trying it. As a 22-year-old teacher in the Chicago public Schools, I packed my lunch every day: a bag of Chips Ahoy, Oreos or Pecan Sandies, followed by a Snickers bar or a Baby Ruth. Although everything tasted good going down, afterwards I didn’t feel very well.

But, I reasoned, God made sugar. He knew my mouth would love it more than anything else so must have meant for me to enjoy it. I was willing to leave the gravy and butter to someone else, along with the chips and dips. My love affair was with sweets. Although I’d try to eat right again and again, eventually I’d end up back with the Three C’s.

Frustrated with this on-again, off-again eating pattern, I finally approached God, seeking a solution. His instruction didn’t beat around the bush: “It’s not good to eat much honey.” (Proverbs 25:27a) Although he made sugar to enjoy, he never meant me to go whole hog.

All of us have our weaknesses. I believe God deliberately designed us this way so we’d have areas in which to practice control. If life was about self-indulgence, how could we ever develop self-discipline?

Food control is an issue for many of us. Reality tells us, “Eat some, but not too much. But definitely eat.” It’s like telling Jack, “Chase that squirrel to the tree, but stop when you’re half way there. But definitely chase him.”

Once we define the areas of our lives that lean into exorbitance, it’s probable we’ll be skirmishing there for the rest of our lives. That reality makes me groan with discouragement. When Adam and Eve lived in the Garden, they didn’t have this problem. But how long did that last? Maybe a couple of weeks?

They had to square off with self-control immediately after God kicked them out of Eden. The harsh reality for all of us is that lack of moderation is the result of jet-black sin. That’s why giving in never satisfies. After one sleeve of Chips Ahoy, a second will always be needed. Whenever I melt into temptation with the Three C’s, its sin that needs removal just as tumors need removing with surgery. The only real satisfaction comes through denial.

Did Jesus crave sweets? Or gravy? Or anything? Our impression from Scripture is that he didn’t eat regularly or much. We also know he fasted, one time for over a month! He was probably skinny, and food was most likely a low priority. But was this easy for him? Probably not. No one likes to feel their stomach growl.

When I think of my love for the Three C’s and my love for Jesus, sugar quickly falls into its proper place at the bottom of my list. Although my mouth will continue to demand it until the day I die, denying it is a chance to become more like Christ. His desire was not to satisfy his earthly appetite but rather to please his Father, God. And mine ought to be the same.

” ‘My food,’ said Jesus, ‘is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.’ “ (John 4:34)

Holy Energy

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All of us have friends in different categories: childhood pals, work associates, neighbors, church acquaintances, siblings and relatives who are friends also. Then there are the dearest few with whom we share our deepest secrets. This weekend two women in that last category visited me at the cottage, coming all the way from Colorado and Arizona to do so. It’s been four and a half years since we’ve been in the same place at the same time, and it was a good feeling when Sue, Gaye and I finally melted into a group hug.

What is it that tightly bonds certain people to each other? In our case, although we’ve been wives and moms together, what really glues us is a shared philosophy of life centered in our personal commitments to Christ. And because that’s true, group prayer is as important as group hugs. Actually, more important. Even when we’re separated by thousands of miles, when we pray for each others’ families, we meet “in God’s throne room.”

Today we took advantage of being together by having an hour-long prayer time on the beach. Jack rolled in the sand and enjoyed the creek as we sent our requests heavenward, praying over each of our children, children-in-law and grandchildren, 30 in all. We also covered those of our parents still living, all struggling with health issues. And we prayed for ourselves as well.

The enormous, empty beach that had been freshly washed by a spring storm was the tranquil backdrop needed for concentration on prayer and the God to whom we were speaking.

When we opened our eyes, a new storm was forming on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of blue and purple. It was too attractive to turn away from, so we continued our conversation. Sue said, through tears, “I can pray when I’m  by myself and of course I do, but when I hear you two praying for my family, a powerful sense of encouragement comes over me like nothing else.”

Gaye and I nod. We know it’s true. But why?

When a friend takes time to hear the concerns of another mom for her children and then takes more time to pray over them, it’s a gift of love. Sometimes a person wearies of praying the same things again and again without seeing results. Waiting can be debilitating. She can become spiritually dry and wonders what else she can pray that she hasn’t already said.

When she hears the fresh prayer of another woman over the same set of circumstances, a new vigor comes to her soul. As Gaye said, “Its prayer back-up. When I hear someone else praying about my concerns, I’m no longer alone in the battle.”

There’s another reason the prayer of a friend is a treasure. A woman may be stuck in a rut as she prays month after month for a problem to be resolved, but then the Holy Spirit moves her friend to pray a specific Scripture over the dilemma, and suddenly a new avenue of communication with God has been initiated. A discouraged pray-er has new promises to claim.

God has said that when two or three people come together with the intention of praying their requests to him, he not only listens but comes to sit among them. Can there be any greater privilege than communing with Almighty God and then having him respond by coming right into our little group of three? Today we experienced that priceless phenomenon, and we have all been changed.

“Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” (Matthew18:20)

Coast to Coast Love

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Lake Michigan has been a familiar and well-loved shoreline since my earliest memories. My siblings and I grew up loving both the Illinois and Michigan sides of the lake, while our California cousins grew up on a different shoreline, next to different waters. They fell in love with the mighty Pacific Ocean and its beaches.

All of us appreciate our pasts on different shores and try still to “beach it” frequently. These wonders, shells, rocks, white powdery sand, tan squeaky sand, salt water, fresh water and sea glass, fascinate us. The rocks, especially, bring delight to me. This week, while looking over my multiple buckets of stones, each one picked up because of its beauty, I came across my small stash of heart-shaped rocks. None are more precious than the 16 hearts the Lord hand-delivered to me on one beach walk during Nate’s struggle with cancer.

Although I might go many months without finding one heart-stone, that day I came home with 16, one for every member of our family including the three then-unborn babies. It was a bonanza of love poured down from my heavenly Father. Although his love surrounds all of us every minute of every day, he knew I needed a visual reminder and delivered it with excellence. (See Oct. 18 blog post, “Take Heart.“) Since that unusual day seven months ago, I’ve found only two additional heart-shaped stones.

This week I chatted with my friend Linda, an artist and lover of all things beach, about the possibility of framing the 16 hearts. She gave me the ideas I needed to pursue the project this summer. Once this collection of hearts is hanging on my cottage wall, it’ll be a steady reminder of God’s ever-present love, available in abundance and surrounding us continually, even when we can’t see it.

Recently I received a package from far-away California sent by a beach-loving relative who has the same high regard for stones that I do. The small box my cousin Patti sent was filled with sweet love, and it means a great deal to me. Attached to the sand-colored box was her intriguing note: “From my beach to yours, remembering Nate and thinking of you.” I paused to ponder what might be inside but couldn’t guess.

Lifting the lid, I saw a spectacular rock sitting atop a square of cotton fluff, the likes of which I’d never seen. Carved by nature into the layers of this sedimentary specimen were multiple hearts, one inside the other as if a sculptor had done it on purpose. And in a sense it had been sculpted, but not by a person. The Artist who created beaches in the first place is still busy producing impressive stones and most probably did sculpt it on purpose.

I know Patti would like to have kept that remarkable rock, yet she surrendered it to me, knowing of our shared love for beach stones and wanting to send love across the 2000 miles between us in a meaningful way. She succeeded, and I count her stone among my most precious treasures.

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:26)