I was literally chomping into a Taco Bell
crunch wrap when I opened my Made To Crave book over my lunch break today. I did
not bring my lunch this time, so I had to go out to eat. I told myself all
morning--"Eat a salad. Eat a salad. Just go to HyVee and get a salad. You
like salad. You can do a salad. Just eat a salad!"
Guess what. I did not eat a salad. I had a craving. I wanted meaty, cheesy, crunchy goodness wrapped in a tortilla with a large mountain to top it off. So I went to Taco Bell. My weakness. I love that place....it does not love me.
I sat in my car, eating my deliciousness, and reached over for my book. It was the other thing I'd been telling myself all morning. "Read chapter two. Don't give up now. Stick with it. Read chapter two. It's not long, do it." So, since I didn't follow through on the first promise, I figured I better on the second. So I opened to Chapter Two and read about Lysa's struggle with scale.
She describes the same cycle that I go through every single day. Step on the scale. Don't like what it tells me, so I strip off a few more layers. Still don't like what it tells me, so I find something else to discard. In Lysa's case, its her ponytail holder. I tell myself I'm going to be good. I'm going to make smart choice. Eat better. Be better. Be awesome! What is that smell? You say you made cinnamon rolls? Do I want one, you ask? Heck, I want THREE!
More or less, this is how it goes. Today happened to be salad vs. taco. The taco won and now, unfortunately, I am regretting that victory and wishing the salad was a better fighter. He's a pushover, that salad.
Why do I do that? I cave to my cravings and end up feeling icky, gross, bloated, and guilty the rest of the day. But I had spending money. I'm going to eat a salad for dinner, instead. Excuses, excuses. Always excuses. I KNOW that eating junk makes me feel like junk. I have learned that lesson over and over and over again. So why do I keep doing it?
Because it goes deeper than that.
I talked about in a previous post about the introduction to Made to Crave and finding the "want to" and how it has to go deeper than just shallow desires. She reiterates this in Chapter Two; "It had to be about something more than just me" (page 28).
This going deeper theme goes both ways, however. It's not just the solution but also the problem that is rooted deep.
When you pull a weed from a garden, merely cutting off the top doesn't solve the problem. It might make it look nicer for a day, but the problem is going to return, and probably a lot quicker than you would like.
My issues with food are similar. Merely shaving off the shallow top isn't going to solve anything. It may make it "look nice" for a day or so, but its not a deep-rooted solution. The weed is going to keep growing back unless I go deeper. I have to uproot it completely in order to get rid of it.
So what is rooting my bad eating habits? Its not just a habit of eating junk, or else the problem would be solved. It's not just a taste for grease over health, or else the problem would be easily fixed. It goes deeper. And once I locate that, I'm going to be easier to tug on the roots of the weed and replace it with something beautiful.
I don't know about you, but I am an emotional eater. I do not just mean that I eat when I am upset, either. I eat when I am mad, sad, bad, guilty, happy, joyful, embarrassed, excited, nervous.... You name it, I eat it. I don't know if I could pinpoint when it started exactly, but I can say it is a pattern than I can see throughout my childhood. Ever since I can remember. Had a bad day? Eat a cookie. Had a good day? Reward yourself with some chips. Feeling sad? Ice cream. Feeling happy? Have an extra large helping at dinner.
My childhood was not a terrible one as childhoods go. Actually, I had a pretty good one. No major traumas or dramas or anything. But I will say I am an emotional person, and more often than not, those emotions get released via food consumption.
I was not a thin child. I was always aware that I was bigger than other kids. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I wasn't necessarily chubby, but I was still bigger than them. I remember shopping at Walmart for clothes--the old Walmart, before the Superstore, and being upset because I was a size 7 when everyone else my age was a size 6 or 6x. I remember it being a bad day because of it, because I felt like I was too big because I wasn't the same size as everyone else.
I remember other such trips that went similarly. The one I remember most is, again, shopping for clothes at Walmart. There was a particular dress I'd been eyeing for EVER. It was ankle-length or so, and blue and yellow strips. The fabric was sort of stretchy, and Mom would never let me try it on. The fabric, she said, wouldn't be flattering on me. One day, she let me try it on. But, she said, if it doesn't look good, we wouldn't get it.
I was so excited about this dress. SO excited! I nearly skipped into the dressing room. I pulled it on and looked at myself in the mirror....turned to one side....then the other side.... and smiled. I loved it! I thought I looked good. It was cute. I was cute. We'd buy the dress and all would be right with the world! I distinctly remember silently squealing in glee and jumping up and down in the dressing room, I was so excited.
Then I stepped OUT of the dressing room. Long story short, Mom said no.
Now, for the record, I don't ever remember being given a specific reason for the no. There could've been a variety of reasons for her saying no. But I automatically assumed it was because I looked fat in the dress. I sulked back into the dressing room and stared at msyelf in the mirror again, pouting. I turned to one side and then the other again, staring. I didn't think I looked too bad in it. Well, my tummy wasn't exactly flat like some girls' tummy's were.... and my arms pudged a little....
and then I found a million little reasons to hate myself. Because of a stupid dress. What I thought a minute before had been amazing was now a disaster. Maybe I really was fat. Maybe it really was ugly on me. Maybe I was ugly. Maybe I just wasn't meant to be cute and wear cute clothes like other girls. Maybe I was too fat for that. Maybe I'd just have a frosty instead to make myself feel better....
Keep in mind, at this point in my life, I am about ten years old. That is a lot for a ten-year-old to deal with in the course of a few minutes. Apparently, so much so that I can still remember it vividly and still struggle with the same struggles from that dressing room.
Why am I telling you all of this? To explain a little bit about where my bad-rooted habits come from. To show that the solution has to go just as deep as the problem.
I can't conquer my food addiction with shallow desires. It will yield shallow results because the problem is not a shallow one. It goes deep. And so must the solution. And... *drum roll* the solution is God.
Cheesy line? Maybe. Obvious? Probably. But it's true. Nothing and no one goes deeper than God can (and does) and thus God is the only solution. To any problem. Period.
Guess what. I did not eat a salad. I had a craving. I wanted meaty, cheesy, crunchy goodness wrapped in a tortilla with a large mountain to top it off. So I went to Taco Bell. My weakness. I love that place....it does not love me.
I sat in my car, eating my deliciousness, and reached over for my book. It was the other thing I'd been telling myself all morning. "Read chapter two. Don't give up now. Stick with it. Read chapter two. It's not long, do it." So, since I didn't follow through on the first promise, I figured I better on the second. So I opened to Chapter Two and read about Lysa's struggle with scale.
She describes the same cycle that I go through every single day. Step on the scale. Don't like what it tells me, so I strip off a few more layers. Still don't like what it tells me, so I find something else to discard. In Lysa's case, its her ponytail holder. I tell myself I'm going to be good. I'm going to make smart choice. Eat better. Be better. Be awesome! What is that smell? You say you made cinnamon rolls? Do I want one, you ask? Heck, I want THREE!
More or less, this is how it goes. Today happened to be salad vs. taco. The taco won and now, unfortunately, I am regretting that victory and wishing the salad was a better fighter. He's a pushover, that salad.
Why do I do that? I cave to my cravings and end up feeling icky, gross, bloated, and guilty the rest of the day. But I had spending money. I'm going to eat a salad for dinner, instead. Excuses, excuses. Always excuses. I KNOW that eating junk makes me feel like junk. I have learned that lesson over and over and over again. So why do I keep doing it?
Because it goes deeper than that.
I talked about in a previous post about the introduction to Made to Crave and finding the "want to" and how it has to go deeper than just shallow desires. She reiterates this in Chapter Two; "It had to be about something more than just me" (page 28).
This going deeper theme goes both ways, however. It's not just the solution but also the problem that is rooted deep.
When you pull a weed from a garden, merely cutting off the top doesn't solve the problem. It might make it look nicer for a day, but the problem is going to return, and probably a lot quicker than you would like.
My issues with food are similar. Merely shaving off the shallow top isn't going to solve anything. It may make it "look nice" for a day or so, but its not a deep-rooted solution. The weed is going to keep growing back unless I go deeper. I have to uproot it completely in order to get rid of it.
So what is rooting my bad eating habits? Its not just a habit of eating junk, or else the problem would be solved. It's not just a taste for grease over health, or else the problem would be easily fixed. It goes deeper. And once I locate that, I'm going to be easier to tug on the roots of the weed and replace it with something beautiful.
I don't know about you, but I am an emotional eater. I do not just mean that I eat when I am upset, either. I eat when I am mad, sad, bad, guilty, happy, joyful, embarrassed, excited, nervous.... You name it, I eat it. I don't know if I could pinpoint when it started exactly, but I can say it is a pattern than I can see throughout my childhood. Ever since I can remember. Had a bad day? Eat a cookie. Had a good day? Reward yourself with some chips. Feeling sad? Ice cream. Feeling happy? Have an extra large helping at dinner.
My childhood was not a terrible one as childhoods go. Actually, I had a pretty good one. No major traumas or dramas or anything. But I will say I am an emotional person, and more often than not, those emotions get released via food consumption.
I was not a thin child. I was always aware that I was bigger than other kids. Looking back at pictures, I can see that I wasn't necessarily chubby, but I was still bigger than them. I remember shopping at Walmart for clothes--the old Walmart, before the Superstore, and being upset because I was a size 7 when everyone else my age was a size 6 or 6x. I remember it being a bad day because of it, because I felt like I was too big because I wasn't the same size as everyone else.
I remember other such trips that went similarly. The one I remember most is, again, shopping for clothes at Walmart. There was a particular dress I'd been eyeing for EVER. It was ankle-length or so, and blue and yellow strips. The fabric was sort of stretchy, and Mom would never let me try it on. The fabric, she said, wouldn't be flattering on me. One day, she let me try it on. But, she said, if it doesn't look good, we wouldn't get it.
I was so excited about this dress. SO excited! I nearly skipped into the dressing room. I pulled it on and looked at myself in the mirror....turned to one side....then the other side.... and smiled. I loved it! I thought I looked good. It was cute. I was cute. We'd buy the dress and all would be right with the world! I distinctly remember silently squealing in glee and jumping up and down in the dressing room, I was so excited.
Then I stepped OUT of the dressing room. Long story short, Mom said no.
Now, for the record, I don't ever remember being given a specific reason for the no. There could've been a variety of reasons for her saying no. But I automatically assumed it was because I looked fat in the dress. I sulked back into the dressing room and stared at msyelf in the mirror again, pouting. I turned to one side and then the other again, staring. I didn't think I looked too bad in it. Well, my tummy wasn't exactly flat like some girls' tummy's were.... and my arms pudged a little....
and then I found a million little reasons to hate myself. Because of a stupid dress. What I thought a minute before had been amazing was now a disaster. Maybe I really was fat. Maybe it really was ugly on me. Maybe I was ugly. Maybe I just wasn't meant to be cute and wear cute clothes like other girls. Maybe I was too fat for that. Maybe I'd just have a frosty instead to make myself feel better....
Keep in mind, at this point in my life, I am about ten years old. That is a lot for a ten-year-old to deal with in the course of a few minutes. Apparently, so much so that I can still remember it vividly and still struggle with the same struggles from that dressing room.
Why am I telling you all of this? To explain a little bit about where my bad-rooted habits come from. To show that the solution has to go just as deep as the problem.
I can't conquer my food addiction with shallow desires. It will yield shallow results because the problem is not a shallow one. It goes deep. And so must the solution. And... *drum roll* the solution is God.
Cheesy line? Maybe. Obvious? Probably. But it's true. Nothing and no one goes deeper than God can (and does) and thus God is the only solution. To any problem. Period.
One of
the things Lysa talks about in her book is praying through cravings. Every time
she got a craving, she said, she would pray through it, until, brick by brick,
she dismantled her "tower of impossibility" and used them to pave a
"walkway of prayer" (page 30). This concept falls along the same
lines as surrounding myself with Truth to battle the cravings (or, as
previously established, to battle Satan).
So.
Even though I am deeply craving terrible awful un-healthiness right now and I
REALLY don't want to eat that salad I planned on having for dinner, I am going
to pray myself through the cravings and surround myself with Truth. And I'm
going to start with the following.
1
Corinthians 10:23 "Everything is
permissible, but not everything is beneficial."
Psalms
5:1-3 "Give ear to my words, O LORD,
consider my sighing. Listen to my cry for help, my King and God, for to you I
pray. In the morning, O LORD, you heard my voice; in the morning I lay my
requests before you and wait in expectation."
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