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.