I've Been Beaten Up By My Homemade Cookies

It's been a few months since I've written anything and a lot has happened in those months.
It seems like after all this time, after all these epiphanies, after all my talk of freedom I could check this food struggle off my list and say, "Victorious! Done!"

At one point Lysa asks us what victory over our food issues would look like. At the time I answered, "true victory would manifest itself when I'm pregnant with the hoped for 3rd baby, the numbers on the scale are steadily going UP, and I am still free to push my dinner plate aside and opt for eggs instead of a donut."  Well, God has blessed me with a third baby and I am currently six months pregnant.

Victorious? Done?

I want to say, "I fought hard. I did pretty darn well. I'm doing so much better than I did with my prior pregnancies."  And that is all true. I have worked at making good choices, cutting out snacks and sugars, and eating regular sized portions. But the answer is a very clear and bold NO.

So I guess it's time to dive into the "why not?" I can bring up two solid reasons. One of which is old news, and one of which is a new weapon Satan is using on me. We'll start with the familiar power struggle between God and myself. 

God has spent a lot of time teaching me about the difference to say NO to things within my own power, and saying NO to them with Jesus by my side, his hand on my shoulder. I had a revelation one morning when I really wanted to finish off someone's pancakes.
I looked at the pancakes.
I thought "I want them. They taste good."
I sighed, as the familiar feeling of denial seeped into my heart.
I pushed them away. Because I knew that I didn't need them. Because I knew that God didn't want me to eat when I wasn't hungry. Because I knew I would feel better by not eating them, in the end.
And then I heard God whisper, "Let me help you. Let me be with you while you push those pancakes away."
I felt so confused. "But, God, I won. I pushed them away. I'm not bowing down to a false food idol."
"But let me be with you."
So I brought the pancakes back to me and just told him what I felt about them. "I want them. The syrup has soaked in and they were extra yummy this morning... Help me push them away." And the constant feeling of self-denial left my heart and was pushed away with those pancakes. I didn't feel alone. I didn't feel sad that I was missing out. Rather, I felt like I was just chilling with my friend. I was able to turn away from the pancakes and smile at God.
"OH! Wow. Saying NO was a lot more fun doing it with you instead of just for you."

I still struggle with wanting to dig deep into my own will and say no to things instead of asking God to be with me. And because I keep relying on my own will I am giving into larger portions and extra snacks more than I should. And that was going on when I was I normal non-pregnant woman. This pregnancy is taking it's toll on me emotionally. I cry my heart out nearly once a week. Sometimes it's because my little boys are extra needy, extra whiny, and extra aggressive with each other. But mostly it's because I forget that the crumbs fall out of the toaster if I lift the toaster up at all, or because I forgot to use a coupon that would have saved me twenty cents on my biscuits. Being in this emotionally crippling state obviously doesn't give my will much of a backbone to say no to food. And even though I was learning a lot about how to rely on Him instead of myself I wasn't in the habit before Crazy Crying Erin took over. So after months of this power struggle I've reached a low point. The lowest point I've been at since I first heard about Made to Crave. This morning I ate five homemade chocolate chip cookies before 8am. Actually, I think I ate one or two more because there was only a few left, and it made sense to me to just eat them all up right now so that I wouldn't have to battle with them later on. (I could probably admit to you now that that particular strain of reasoning is one I want to use a lot). I ate many chocolate chip cookies yesterday too, and I thought about calling my mom to say, "Help! I am drowning in my desire of food!" but I really wanted to eat a chocolate chip cookie sundae after the kids went to bed. As I was eating the fifth... or sixth... cookie I thought about the damage it was doing to my body. But it was damage that I wouldn't be seeing until after the baby arrived. I'd deal with that when the time came. Besides, I'd probably be more emotionally stable by then so I could handle these food issues better.

And that leads me to my second issue with dealing with my food, the new weapon Satan has wielded. Being pregnant means my numbers are going up! Regardless of the good choices I've made so far. I am seeing numbers that have given me depression over the last five years. My body is getting bigger. I don't feel cute and thin. I feel big and fat. It doesn't seem worth it to figure out how to go to God in times of need. It doesn't seem worth it to dig deep and say no. If I'm going to be victorious over food, I want to see the results!
But as I was eating those cookies, I felt the warning, "This indulgence will only make you more depressed. It will only make you feel more angry. On top of that your gut is going to start paying and you are going to have a major sugar crash." Sure enough, one of my kids asked me to get up and follow him just after I sat down and I broke down and started crying my head off. As I tried to justify my crying (e.g. my poor kids have an unstable mama, they shouldn't have to pay for my emotional insanity, I just want to sit down and be left alone for one hour, oh, poor baby just wanted his sippy cup and instead of helping him I'm crying, etc...) I knew that I didn't have to be in this position. I knew that God is bigger than my emotions, bigger than my fatigue, bigger than any damage I could be doing to my children. I knew that living in righteousness is a JOYOUS experience, not a deprived and depressed one. It's time to take advantage of being a Christian and worshipping a LIVING God.

One of my first steps in going to God this morning is writing this blog. I don't necessarily love sharing with you how vulnerable and ridiculous I am but I feel peaceful and obedient in it. God designed me to have very few inhibitions and I believe that reaching out to other women is one of those reasons.
Next up, I am going to reread Lysa's chapter 7, I Am Not Defined By Numbers. If time allows I am going to read more. There is a couple of cookie crumbs on my counter right now. I want to sweep them into my mouth, but I am going to use them to practice bringing God into focus.

I WILL feel joy by the end of the day.

"Victory isn't a place we arrive at and then relax. Victory is when we pick something healthy over something not beneficial for us. And we maintain our victories with each next choice...The very next choice we make isn't really about the food and the weight and the negative feelings we carry around when we're choosing poorly. It's about whether or not we're positioning ourselves to live the kind of God-honoring lives in which, by God's strength, sustained discipline is possible" (170).

And I wasn't planning on quoting her further, but the next paragraph speaks directly to my soul right now: "So, how does one tap into God's strength? Certainly prayer. Definitely reading the Bible.... but there's another part to it. Getting to a place where our lack of strength disgusts us.
           "This place is found at the bottom of our excuses and rationalizations. It's found when our efforts fail time and time again" (170).

A Mask Comes Off

Dear Father,
Dear Jesus,
Dear Lord,
Dear Sir,
My God,

My God. It feels so hypocritical to say that. Even as I come to you today to get things in order, to set them right, to get my feet back on the ground, I am trying to think up all the things I should quickly go out and buy before I need to hold to my budget again. I am thinking of eating one more handful of anything before I straighten up my act. Merciful Savior, I need help. I've faltered and now I'm stuck in a confused and depressed mindset.
I know where I went wrong. My pride. I felt proud and strong. I felt frustrated with my mom for not seeing things as black and white as I do. I wanted to whip her into shape. And then she asked me about my shopping. And, Sir, you know that I have been working so hard at staying on budget, planning my purchases, and making my money count. Technically I hadn't broken any rules-yet. But I admitted honestly to her that I am still struggling with talking myself into buying things; that I am just barely staying within the budget and it's only the first week of the month. When I saw her look of relief- that she wasn't alone, that I still have a big weakness- oh boy- my pride burned. I can still feel that shame boiling in my chest. I even resented her a little bit. That was it. The next day I ate whatever I wanted and I bought everything I have been waiting for. I kept telling myself that I am in control and that I am not weak; that the reason I was doing this was because I did not have a problem with it. What a ridiculous lie I was believing. I still don't really understand how I could justify that behavior. And I suppose that I actually couldn't, which is why I haven't been able to come to you.
And I've missed you, my Lord. For the last two weeks, as I've been living in the delusion of my own power, I've missed you! I understand so much more clearly how sin deafens us.
I've known that I need to sit down and be with you. But every time I bow my head or take a moment of silence, I feel like I just can't find you. You seem distant right now. And I'm struggling. And I'm drowning. I NEED you. I need you to remind me why it's important to obey my body. I need you to make my lines clear. And most of all, I need you to teach my that I don't need to buy those material things to run my house well. I need you to free me because I feel so alone, and helpless, and overwhelmed.
Please. Please come to me. Make your voice loud and clear. Give me your power so I can stand on my feet again. Take me into the promised land, so that you can straighten my clothes, comb my hair, and remind me why I can't rely on my own power.
There are so many things I want to pray about right now. I need help teaching, training, and shaping Tommy. I need focus, to *see* Benji and all that he is. I need you to quiet my tongue, so that I can listen to my husband. I want to talk to you about the desires of my heart, but I can't come to you with any of this while Caramel Cheesecake and Yoga Pants are ordering me around.
Please, come free me, My Lord.

Bad Romance

I want you to know that before sitting down to write this, I had a beautiful bowl of ice cream with caramel topping with some brownie mixed in.
**Note: it was not fat free ice cream and not sugar free caramel topping.**
And what I really want you to know is that I don't have one iota of guilt about it. I enjoyed every bite.
I enjoyed the present that God gave me of my taste buds.
I enjoyed it because my body gave me the signal that I could eat.
I enjoyed it because I didn't stretch my belly in order to get it in.
I enjoyed it so much because God wants me to take pleasure in his creations.

Over the last three months I have been dancing with true freedom. Freedom that doesn't require a food plan. Freedom from constantly being plagued by thoughts of brownies sitting on the counter. Freedom from the irresistable urge to finish my burrito.
I would go a few days without wanting something that my food plan restricts and think, Yay! I'm free! I am healed enough, healthy enough, strong enough to trust that I will make good decisions without considering all my rules all the time! And then I would encounter some pizza, and gleefully take it because I was free of my food plan. As I was eating a piece I thought, "It's time for bed, this is pretty greasy, and it would be a better choice to not eat it." And all of the sudden I WANTED THAT PIZZA. I sat down and wrote about it. For entertainment's sake, here it is:

It feels like...

• I can't think past the moment of taking another bite of cheesy pizza.
• There isn't anything else going on in the world because my eye keeps going to that piece, and once I take a bite I will be able to finish typing, stirring, talking, reading...
• Such a waste to throw it out.
• It won't ever taste exactly like this again.
• What can be so wrong with eating it?
• My mouth feels empty....
• I'm going to do really well tomorrow, to make up for today.
• Chewing it will feel so good.
• Tasting it will send warm tinglys to my heart.

I feel...

• Consumed. That last bite is YELLING at me in the back of my mind. I'm trying to ignore it, but a vision of it's deliciousness pops to mind. I'm trying to focus my attention away, but the voice just gets louder.
• Angry. I've been restrained, self-controlled, deprived for SO LONG.
• Tired. What were my mantras again?
• Uncaring. I've rebelled before, I'll rebel again. I'm still going to heaven. Yada, Yada.
• Hooked. I think I'm making progress and then all the sudden there is something reminding me that I really want another bite.
• Depressed. I will always have to fight tooth and nail to stay thin... I'm such a loser. I'm so weak. I'm so ugly. Why even bother.
• Hopeless. Where is the exit door? What can I do to stop wanting it???

I am sitting at my desk with a piece of Little Caesars Sausage and Grease Pizza. It is 11:16pm. When I took it, my stomach was growling, and therefore it felt okay to have. But the responsible side of my heart told me that I should be going to bed hungry; that I have had enough grease for the day and I should forego this opportunity. When my hunger was satiated about half-way through the cheesy pizza I feverishly took three more bites. That piece of pizza is now sitting in front of me. Yelling at me. And I’m trying to record why such a simple, life-less, inanimate object can take over my mind. It seems so precious and wonderful right now…

For the last three to five months I've been going back and forth, feeling strong and free from food, to writing posts like that. Every time I would be at that weak point I would know, "You are not strong enough yet, Erin. You still need to practice giving up food. You still need to live by the food plan, the rules of good nutrition. The issue of food is still too big for you. You WILL be free. You just aren't yet."

My mom and I have been using lots and lots of imagery to understand our food battles. One of them is that God wants us to be in the promised land. The promised land being a place where we don't feel powerless against food, and actually that food isn't even our enemy. But we have been living in the desert- a place where we believe that food is fun, and comforting, and entertaining, and safe. In the desert we eat to celebrate, to pass the time, to clear our plates, and to make ourselves feel better. We go to food for any occasion and have a hard time understanding why we aren't supposed to. My mom describes herself as carressing the walls of the promised land, but still hanging out in the desert. She's close- so close- to freedom, but for some reason she is still being lured to stay in the desert. I have been in and out of the promised lands' walls. During the last three months I have been spending time wandering the beautiful peace, joy, and freedom of the promised land: of freedom from the food idol. But then I would meander outside and get bludgeoned with overwhelming desire for certain morsels of the food gods.
I believe, 100%, that I can reside in the Promised Land forever. I just need to stear clear of the doors that lead to the desert.

*                    *                       *                   *                       *

I took a survey at the beginning of this process, and I wanted to share it with you. It was fascinating to read my answers and see where my mind was.

Page14 of Made to Crave: Participants Guide

1. Briefly review the list of statements below and place a checkmark next to those you feel are true for you.

• I think about food way too much. ~Yes. It is what entertains me through my day.
• My food choices are often high in fat or sugar. ~Yes, Yes, Yes and more please!
  
• I feel embarrassed about my weight or appearance. ~Crying every morning when I get dressed- that means Yes.
• The thought of changing how I eat makes me feel sad. ~More like depressed, scared, angry…Yes.
• I'm reluctant to bring this issue to God. ~Yes.
• I have gained and lost weight several times. ~No, just one big gain, one big loss, and one more big gain.
• I feel defeated and discouraged about issues related to weight or food. ~Ugh. Yes.
• I don't have as much physical energy as I wish I did. ~No. I think I’m all good with my energy.
• When I need comfort, I turn to food before I turn to God. ~Yes. Is that really wrong?
• I say negative things to myself ("You're so fat", "You're ugly," "You're not capable of getting your act together when it comes to food.") ~Pretty much the entire time I’m eating, or getting dressed, or with skinny people.
• I'm not sure this is an issue God cares about. ~Yes... kinda. Except I guess deep down I know that it is.
• I feel guilty or embarrassed about what I eat or the size of my portions. ~Yes. Eating in secret might be a symptom of that.
• I have health concerns that are weight related. ~No.
• I eat food typically considered unhealthy fast food several times a week. ~Yes. I love me my McDouble. And it’s so easy to feed the family. And it’s great entertainment. And I love going out to eat.
• I eat for emotional reasons-- for comfort, out of boredom, to relieve stress. ~YES. I can escape from my whining babies, or make a long day at home go by faster.
• I sometimes feel like food is more powerful than I am. ~Yes. It invades my mind.
• I think that I will always struggle with this issue. ~Yes. That’s just what life is supposed to be, isn’t it?
• I sometimes eat in secret or hide food. ~I have eaten while hiding from my husband....more than once.
• I avoid physical exertion. ~I'm not running marathons, but in day to day life- No I don’t avoid it.
• When it comes to food and weight, I feel like I'm trapped in a vicious cycle and there is no way out. ~Yes. I just want to be skinny again.

2. Based on your responses from the checklist, circle the number below that best describes the degree to which you feel issues with food may be waging war on your soul.

1_____2_____3_____4_____5_____6_____7___X_8_____9_____10

Issues with food      Issues with food      Issues with food
are not waging        are a threat to         are waging war
on my soul.           my soul...                  on my soul.

I took that survey a second time today and I am amazed at the transformation. When I marked my X I was happy to find that it’s home is next to the 3. I wish it were by the 1, but the truth is my mind occasionally tries to wander to the food category and I need to quickly recognize that I’m not hungry and there is no reason to look for something to eat. I am so frustrated and ashamed to admit that I feel weak in my love for food, when I feel so confused about why I have to be so responsible with my food choices.

If you were to take this survey, what number would you be resting at?
It's time to start another Made To Crave study. Anyone want to join me? 

Wait, Wait, Wait! So God Cares About This?

My mom came to me this afternoon and told me that she has some things to say, and could I post them on this blog? Delightedly I said yes. Her post came at a perfect time, as I have two or three different posts started trying to address some issues my mom shares so well. So, without further ado... my mom, my mentor, my best friend, my accountability partner:

            This is Erin’s mom. I’ve asked her for some space on her blog. I wanted to write because she sometimes, very generously, portrays me as HER mentor and leader in the Made to Crave journey. While that may have been true in the very beginning, it is certainly no longer true. She seems like a rock to me; I flounder often. So, for those of you who have strong, black and white personalities like Erin’s, you may not understand this blog; but for those of you who often feel weak, who shortly after a moment of victory continue to battle, who whine and fuss about giving up your favorite addiction, this is for you.

            Erin often calls me “gray.” It’s because I vacillate between strength and struggle in my food addiction. I think one of the reasons I do this is because, deep down, it’s hard for me to believe that this issue - overeating, loving food, letting food control me instead of me controlling it - that this issue is important to God, Master and Creator of all things. Certainly, there are so many other things that are weighty to Him! But I think I’m finally getting His message...this issue in my life matters to Him!

            I need to start a few months ago. I was in a very good period of my journey, but feeling weak. I had prayed for strength for the upcoming week. There were faculty lunches, and social get-aways, and favorite restaurants. I knew it would be difficult, and I felt like I just couldn’t do it anymore; I didn’t WANT to do it anymore. I wanted to just eat whatever, whenever. God took me to Deuteronomy 9.This chapter comes just after those amazing verses about teaching your children to love God with all their hearts, minds, souls, and strength; to talk of it sitting, standing, walking; to put it on your doorposts and foreheads. THOSE verses that say God wants what? ALL of your love. But as I was facing the next week, fearing that I will lost the battle and give my love to food, I began reading in verse ten. In it, I heard God saying to me, “Amy, you don’t need to worry about this, because I’m going to go before you and destroy your enemy. I’M going to give you victory...no worries.” VERY COOL, I thought. But then He told me why. He said, “Don’t be thinking that I’m going to do this because you are so wonderful and deserving, NO! I’m doing this because your enemy (slavery to food) is wicked. I hate it! I repeat, I’m not giving you victory because you’re good...YOU ARE STUBBORN!” Ouch! But, I have to admit it, when it comes to giving up the food god, I have been stubborn. So, thank you, God!! And boy, did He give me victory! I BREEZED through the next week. I felt like I was just on the edge of the promised land; the land where I can go to faculty meetings without dying to sample the entire snack buffet, or counting every calorie at my favorite restaurants.

But, as I stood on the cusp, I was worried for the next step; I kept thinking what if I go back to enslavement? I read the next section of that chapter in Deuteronomy. God says, “Remember how angry you made me after I freed you from your slavery in Egypt. You constantly rebelled against me until I was ready to destroy you. You kept forgetting who your GOD is; you made an idol!” I felt like I was really beginning to see that in my life, this issue mattered to my God. He HATED my addiction. I was thinking of chapter 5, “Made for More” in Lisa’s book. God made me for more than this, more than being a glutton, more than loving food and being controlled by it, more than eating much more than I needed to. In those verses in Deuteronomy, I felt God telling me, “This idol in your life needs to go. I can’t stand it anymore.” I heard him. I understood him. I entered into a strong period.

How do we go from there to weak periods? I don’t know. All I know is that a girls’ long weekend to Door County took me right back to Egypt. My piggy head was deep in the feeding trough. I ate whatever, whenever for about two weeks, purposely ignoring any prayer or bible reading. When I finally decided the day of reckoning was at hand, I stepped on the scale to see what damage my unrestrained indulgence had bought me. I was fearing 5 or 6 pounds. The actual: 10 pounds. I had not been at this weight for FIVE months. In two weeks I had regained what it had taken me five MONTHS to lose. Wow! Spanking is not the word. I felt as if I had been pulverized. But as I stood in shock and depression, Deuteronomy 9 came back to me: “Remember and never forget how angry you made the Lord your God...constantly rebelling against Him...He was so angry he was ready to destroy you.” He also whispered Hebrews 12:6 in my ear: “For those whom the Lord loves, He disciplines, and he scourges every son whom He acknowledges.” Ten pounds in two weeks is unnatural, it’s exorbitant; it’s the finger of God. With Hebrews 12:6 in mind, I suddenly was feeling VERY loved. I got down on my knees and confessed everything to my Abba. I was assured that He loved me and WILL NOT tolerate my visits to Egypt. The addiction MUST stop. He HATES it in my life; He wants the throne. He doesn’t want to share it any more, at all, with anything. I got up off of my knees quite giddy, actually. I could no longer doubt in any way that God wants this issue of food addiction to be over for me. He’s told me very plainly and had given me severe consequences for my disobedience. What if I fall off again? What will my consequence be? 15 pounds? 20? ALL of my weight back? Okay, okay, I say. I get it. You care; I need to fight this battle ALWAYS.

            All in all, I guess I just wanted to share that it might FOREVER be a struggle, but it’s one that matters. God wants the throne. He hates our enslavement to anything other than Himself.

The Story of the Purple Square Plates

Within a few months of recognizing my act of going to food instead of God for comfort I recognized my desire to shop. I shopped to help me feel better; to help entertain me and the boys; to buy a much needed item; to make my life better. I got all tingly inside thinking about all the things I wanted to bring home. I just knew that once I bought a junk drawer organizer I would be able to function in the kitchen better. I needed to buy my little boys matching trucks so that they would play with them for hours and hours. I needed some strappy brown sandals because they would go with everything I own way better than my strappy brown wedge sandals. And I needed purple plates to match my kitchen decor. It was July 2 when I realized that God hates that I use shopping as a crutch instead of him just as much as he hates that I worship food instead of him. My mom and I were doing a MTC check-in when I admitted this conviction to her. She laughed at me when I told her that I didn’t want to deal with giving up two false idols right now; plus, I really needed those plates. I explained that I have been looking for some solid purple square plates ever since we moved into this house, and I just found them at Shopko yesterday. But God told me not to buy them, and I obeyed! But I think that I need to go back and get them, because they are exactly what I am looking for. I love the square-ness of them, and the purple matches my kitchen perfectly and since I leave my plates out on a shelf in the kitchen they need to match.....


But as the conversation progressed I felt a very strong challenge from God, "Erin- Not only am I saying NO to the plates, but I don't want you to spend a single penny on yourself this month." To try to describe what I felt at that moment is embarrassing, you would think someone- my mom- had died. My stomach flipped and my jaw dropped. I wanted to argue my way out of that challenge. After all- it was only July 2! I said over and over to my mom, "It's impossible. It's absolutely impossible. There is no way... It's impossible. Whatever, God, I'll give it a try... but it's not going to happen. It's impossible... And my plates will be gone! Can't I just start the challenge after I go buy my plates?"


That month was amazing. I cried a lot, and I called my mom a lot. I walked past my plates a lot. But I didn't spend a single penny on myself. Not even for a candy bar. When I got to the end of the month I asked God if I could go get my plates now, and he gave me the thumbs up. When I got there they were on clearance- 70% off. The smile I gave God was too big for my face and I wanted to cry that he would give me such an awesome reward for my obedience. My God got  me through the impossible, and he gave me exactly what I wanted in return. I worship such an awesome God.


I brought the plates home and put away my old farmhouse green ones. I served dinner and put them in the washer. The next morning I put them away on their shelf to be used as decoration. And as I walked by I gave God a little smile and knew that if anyone came over there would be no way they would walk into my kitchen and say, "Huh, why don't her plates match her kitchen? If they are going to be on a display shelf, they shouldn't be green farmhouse plates, they should match the decor." And as I had that thought I realized that I hated my plates. They symbolized all of the ill-founded importance I placed in my special purchases- in objects. I saw my shallowness and my vanity. I saw my naivety and simple-mindedness. I saw an idol that I worshipped that could do nothing for me.


I still hate my plates. But I'm not going to take them down because every time I start focusing on a new chair, or child's toy, or movie, or curtain, I am reminded that I am focusing on a dead idol, when a living, breathing, caring one is willing to give me the time and energy to teach me a long, loving, and freeing lesson through purple square plates.


Following the lesson of the plates, I’ve been learning to live in a constant state of “denial.” It could also be called “self-control”. It could also be called “righteousness.”


 Early, early on in the book- Chapter 6- Lysa talks about those things. As she was trying to answer the question, "How do you grow closer to God?" she brought up the verse, "If anyone would come after me, he must first deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Luke9:23) (60). She answered the question by explaining that we need to intentionally not allow ourselves to have something that is permissible, but not necessarily beneficial. The act of denying ourselves is the real fuel of getting closer to God. When I first read this chapter I passed it over fairly quickly. I understood that she was saying that we can grow close to God if we go to him instead of going to food. Once I got through the book the second time I realized that I was molded enough to truly understand chapter 6. But this time, Made to Crave is no longer addressing my food issues.  Instead, it addresses all of my dead and false idols.

With Puke In My Hair, I Hold My Head High

Ingredient one. I am spending the night with my two year old boy who began throwing up just an hour before bedtime. I have a sheet out on his floor, a pile of towels next to us, and some ginger ale on the night stand. I'm ready for the over night camp out. My poor baby is scared of the puke bucket and keeps trying to run away from throwing up (thus making the sheet on the floor the only clean fabric in the room) and when his stomach contents does come up he claps his hands over his mouth and desperately tries to swallow it back down. The only way I can get him to relax enough to let his body do its thing is if I'm hugging him and whispering in his ear. Which means that my back and hair has turned into the catch-all.

Ingredient two: My ten month old baby spontaneously starts waking up every couple of hours and it's always on the hour that my two year old has finally fallen asleep.

Ingredient three: I'm severely nauseous and wondering if my two year old and I have the same thing.

Ingredient four: Night two, the two year old hasn't thrown up all day and is in bed. Ten month old just threw up all over his crib, and I'm settling into a second night of puke patrol while running to the bathroom for myself.

Final recipe:
So now it is 11 am and I am sitting on the couch curled into a ball. I'm in my jammies and I can't get away from the smell of puke. Every jostle and movement makes my stomach cramp. My headache begs me to close my eyes. Both boys are still a little off and crying at my ankles wanting their very specific needs and desires taken care of. As I'm about to burst into tears I am suddenly reminded of a chapter I read months ago in Made to Crave. It is chapter 5 "Made for More." Lysa talks about her own confidence and self worth. To put it simply she felt like a loser and broken person in life (sinful sexual history, abandonment issues, etc.) and being a slave to food was just a part of that. She then had a revelation and writes about her true identity in Christ and records a list of her new labels (53):

Lysa, the holy child of God. (1 Corinthians 1:30)
Lysa, the made-new child of God. (2 Corinthians 5:17)
Lysa, the loved child of God. ( Ephesians 2:13)
Lysa, the confident child of God. (Ephesians 3:12)
Lysa, the victorious child of God. (Romans 8:37)

There are more to that list, but I think you get the point. She used that list to help set her free from a wrong identity of weakness and foolishness. When she discovered all that it meant to be a child of God she knew that being a slave to food just didn't jive anymore. But that's not why I bring up this chapter now. At the time I read that I didn't associate well with it. As a healthy confident person, I didn't feel the need for an ego-boost. I knew I was special as a child of God. But as I sat on the couch wondering where I could find more "mommy juice," a voice whispered in my ear, "This is not what a child of God looks like, Erin. Stand up. Be confident. Be victorious."

The day didn't end up all peachy keen, but it did get better. Every time I felt justified to have a break down and yell really loudly I was encouraged to stay confident. To stay victorious. Because I am a child of God. He gave me this job of motherhood with confidence, and as His daughter, and as His princess, He gave me the power to do it well.

Don't Cry For Me, Argentina- I Mean Cooler Ranch Doritos

I just read through many of my old posts. It's so great to see the differences in the girl who wrote those and now the girl who just read them. One of the things I read was how much I didn't want to give up baking a batch of cookies and eating most of them or dipping my fries in mayo. I remember tying so much happiness to those things! Well, I haven't baked a batch of cookies and I haven't dipped a fry in mayo for eight months, and I have been just as happy, if not more so.  I have a handful of posts that I started but I couldn't figure out how to finish them. As I was reading those posts I realized that I am having a hard time finishing them because I am trying to write them as the girl who began this blog. I  started  this journey in a dark room that kept me in a vicious cycle of loving food, hating my body, and feeling powerless to change anything. Over the last eight months lights have slowly been turned on and I found the door out. I am now living free in my world but I'm still trying to talk to those in the room as if I'm right there where I began. I have slowly been forgetting the language of gluttony but when I write I'm trying to remember how to speak it. I started this blog because the lights had just been turned on and I wanted to turn to my fellow roommates and say, "Hey! There is a way out! There is a way out! Come on!" I still desperately want that for all my former roommates, but I need to reach out naturally and from outside the dark room, instead of acting as if I'm still in it. 

I'm not at all saying that I am all better. There is, still, a siren's song luring me to that old room. When I reached my goal weight I allowed myself the No No's. Victoriously, I didn't even bother with them for a week; but once I had my first cookie I drifted to the dark room and didn't notice a lasso being put on my neck to draw me in further. I wasn't eating the entire batch in one sitting, but I was eating two or three a day which was a shock to my physical system and my spiritual system was saying "Hey, are we calling the shots here, or are those cookies?" I was stunned by how quickly I could be drawn back into the dark room. I needed to step away from the fight entirely- to run full tilt away from the room so I could properly clear my mind and put on my armor. I made a huge pot of noodles and veggies and that was all I ate for an entire day and a half. Lysa introduces the first chapter saying "You crave what you eat/[You] crave what [you] focus on" (19/23), and I needed to redirect my focus.

I learned quickly that I can't play around the door of that dark room, because I still get drawn in way too easily. Lysa describes this exact situation in chapter 15. She saw herself struggling parallel with a situation her dog was in. She tells us of her very excitable and energetic dog who broke her leg. The doctor told her that she needed to stay still and restful for three weeks (of which Lysa was sure was impossible). By the third week the dog was begging to run outside but Lysa knew the dog's leg wasn't healed enough to make the run, even though the dog was feeling strong and healthy. The leg was still too broken to handle that kind of freedom. And that's exactly where I am right now. I'm still too broken to handle full freedom, a food plan with no rules. I had to put all my No No's back on my list though I do allow for a once a week treat (which sometimes I take and sometimes I don't). One day I will be strong enough to have the option of a cookie every day; and I know that God won't quit working on me until I am.

Punch You In the Face

I'm taking this straight from the book. I loved reading this segment (pages 127-128):

I didn't quite know what to think as my pastor walked up to the podium with a bottle of wine and proceeded to pour a glass. Just about everyone shifted in their seats while he let the shock of the moment settle in. Really settle in.
Seeing a bottle of wine on center stage in a Bible Belt church just doesn't happen. Ever. We drink grape juice for communion.
He then asked us to stand for a reading of God's Word, which was the passage in John 2 where Jesus turns the water into wine. The point of his sermon was to clear away some cultural debris- taboos about drinking wine- so that we could see what the Bible really says and accept it as part of the larger truth of God's Word. It was a mighty fine sermon full of verses that dispelled the myths that the wine Jesus filled the water jars with that day was unfermented, watered down grape juice. It was wine. Wine that Jesus Himself, who never sinned, drank.
Of course, he handled this teaching very delicately. Those who are underage or have issues with alcohol and can't have a glass of wine without being irresponsible should avoid it altogether. He also touched on not being a stumbling block to those who struggle. But again, whether or not to have a glass of wine with dinner was not the point of the sermon; the point was to know what the Bible says about issues we face every day and to apply those Scriptures to our lives appropriately.
Then he shifted gears and turned his attention to food.
Now this was an historic church-going day. Seeing wine in the sanctuary was shocking enough, but never have I heard a preacher man talk about gluttony in church. Never. And his point was brilliant. How can we stand and wag our fingers in the direction of alcohol  only to walk into the church-wide covered dish buffet and stuff ourselves sick with fried, covered-and-smothered, grossly caloric delights that buckle our paper plates and cause our stomachs to cry for antacids?
Overindulgence is overindulgence.
...It's at this point that we have to admit our issues with food aren't just little things that require us to wear a larger-than-ideal dress size. Eating in excess is a sin. The Bible calls it gluttony, which is defined in the dictionary as "excess in drinking or eating." The biblical teaching about excess drinking and eating is clear. "Do no join those who drink too much wine or gorge themselves on meat, for drunkards and gluttons become poor, and drowsiness clothes them in rages" (Provers 23:20-21). Here's another: "He who keeps the law is a discerning son, but a companion of gluttons disgraces his father" (Proverbs 28:7)

I'm going to follow that with the workbook questions (pages 114-115):

1.  What do you think would happen in your church if your pastor were to preach a message on gluttony? How would most people respond? Do you think it would lead people to change how they eat?  

I grew up in a fairly legalistic church. I FULLY identified with Lysa when she described people condemning drinking, (I was once taught that I would lose my entire good christian reputation if someone saw me with a drink on my table-whether it was mine or not) and then gorge themselves at the potluck. I've always wanted my pastor to teach a message on gluttony and I have no idea how anyone would respond. I imagine hackles rising and people saying that it isn't the same thing, and I also see people nodding their head in agreement but then putting that truth from their mind as soon as we stand up to sing the closing chorus...

2.  List two or three ways my Christian community supports or overlooks overindulgence as a normal part of life:

Oh my. In my world, overeating is a way of life. I went years without feeling a hunger pang, and I know I wasn't the only one. How many times have I said or heard someone say, "I know I shouldn't, but..." as another fry landed on the tongue. Being overweight is what we are. We've laughed at the amount of food we've eaten, we've given many blind eyes as someone reaches for another helping or is needing to buy new, bigger clothing. We offer understanding and sympathy when we declare that we are "stuffed full."

Even as my mom and I were making progress reading through Made to Crave we found ourselves laughing at all times we went off our plan to enjoy a treat. We were laughing- laughing- about blatantly sinning against God. 


That's it. That's all I have to offer for this post. I don't offer condemnation or judgement. I'm not out to hurt anyone and make anyone feel badly. I've been there. I am there. I still forget about these truths and this freedom.