I like to doodle....I do it all the time.
Usually I toss them.
Some I color and keep.
Years ago, I would find myself periodically depressed. There was no rhyme or reason as to why, it would just happen. One Christmas, I was more depressed than I had ever been. I was trying to decorated our tree, but I really wanted to throw myself on the floor, roll up in a ball, and stay there indefinitely. I can’t describe the hopelessness of depression, because when there is no reason to be down, yet you are anyway, it’s just senselessness. How can I describe that?
That Christmas, I had a (surely God-placed) thought to speak to the depression, and demand that it leave. I did so, in the name of Jesus, and it left. It hasn’t been back. But, for whatever reasons, discouragement does rear its ugly head at times.
Now is one of those times.
In this blog, I really to try to be
honest about what I write,
honest about what I write,
including how I’m feeling.
Last week I was off work for spring break. I didn’t get one thing accomplished. Apparently, I don’t do well without a schedule (just one more reason to be so thankful for my job). I had a few gluttonous days, which culminated in a gluttonous weekend. Carbs beget carbs! Haven’t I said that before? It should not be so! But last week french fries beget bread, bread begets chips and salsa, and on it went. I didn’t binge (as in mindlessly eating the entire week), and I didn’t eat sugar (though our bodies don't distinguish between whole wheat bread and a chocolate chip cookie, I'm told), but I ate entirely too much. I then had to deal with doubt, guilt, and confusion as to why it is I think just because I eat a few french fries, suddenly I think I have to eat them all, and something else to boot. I ate too much, I gained a few pounds. So, now I’m back at the 81 pounds lost mark, and I just seem to be stuck at 79 - 82 pounds.
You may think that I’m discouraged because of the weight gain, but, no. It’s a little deeper than that. I really am free, and the weight will come off, of that I’m sure, even if I don't like how slow it happens. But there is this unreasonable need for me to be perfect, to show the “world” I’m perfect…and to slide backwards, well, I don’t like that. The truth is, I’m not perfect, and I have days where I struggle with stopping. Since I gave up sugar, I no longer have the insatiable drive to eat, eat, eat, but there are times that I am still a glutton. And when I overdo the carbs, it's a lot easier to keep eating. If I let it, guilt will slap me around; I usually stand up to it, take those thought captive to the obedience of Christ, because it's not a sin to eat chips and salsa or french fries. I do not want to minimize the battle with the feelings of guilt (and doubt and confusion) when I behave this this way, because those feelings are a force to be reckoned with. And sometimes, I'd rather wallow than do the smart thing and take those thoughts captive. To continue eating when I'm full...that's a sin.
It bothers me that I can’t be perfect in this journey. Yes, I am fully aware that it is an unreasonable expectation, an unattainable goal, and it sets me up for failure, yet I want every day an unflawed day. I still find myself eating too fast, which lends to the overeating, and I just want to stomp my foot in frustration and yell after the fact. One reason it bothers me so much that I still have struggles is because of the people I am trying to encourage. Can I be an encouragement to others if I’m discouraged by my own fleshly behavior? This bothers me more than the few pounds gained, by far.
So there we have it. I have lost 81 pounds, and I’m being a little ungrateful. I will work on being more grateful, more accepting of my imperfections, and less critical of my flaws. I'll continue to try to slow down and stop when I’m full. (I don't usually think about it until afterward. Don't you think that would be an easy thing to remember as I sit down to eat?)
PS: On Monday, I went back to work and back to lower carb food choices. It was not a struggle to get back into the groove. Accepting my freedom means knowing that I do not have to rely on my own strength. What a relief that is.