I am a recovering compulsive overeater, abstinent by the grace of God one more* day at a time. †
My precious bride and I planned an outing today that preempted all other plans and put off my devotional journaling. The day did not go as expected, but I refuse to satiate myself with condolence eating, and am trying not to pout over it. We are both healthy and unharmed, and as long as I do no emotional harm we may stay that way.
From today’s entry in Voices of Recovery:
“I thought normal-weight people had no problems, and I envied them. Now I realize that “normal” people deal with difficulties rather than pushing them down with food.”
I’ll stack one on top of that: I thought that when I achieved a healthy weight, I would be completely healthy. I was disappointed to learn that many of my thorns-in-the-side were not related to weight, though many were and still others were aggravated by it. I have a chronic sinus problem that I was sure would go when my belt got short. It seems ludicrous looking back, but I really believed it. Years of compulsive overeating, stressful living, and even smoking has caused a hiatal hernia and acid scarred esophagus (gastroesophagitis) along with it. Neither of these can be helped by the letter “M” appearing on my shirt tags where the “XXXXL” used to be. No, I had to accept that life was not going to be a pot of gold even though I crossed under the gleaming arch of promise. Recovery is helping me accept the life I am given and live it the best and to the fullest measure I can, it does not grant me immunity from trouble. Even Christ told His disciples this would be so. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33b)
From Proverbs 16:
The prosperity that lies on the other side of submission is not, as I said before, a pot of gold, but rather a life worth living, which is in stark contrast to the one I had before. Faith yields courage which builds on itself until all the troubles that used to threaten me are waves at my ankles, as I walk with my Lord. My contentment hinges on my focus as Peter’s safety did when he stepped out of his wind-tossed boat. (Matthew 14:25-33) No sooner than I see the wind about me does it become real and sweep me under the tumult beneath me. I try as diligently as a meat-borne creature can to fix my focus on the Lord, and connect my spirit to His. This blessing is the only prosperity I seek – togetherness with Him that promises to continue even after this age is complete.
From my reading through the Bible, currently in Luke 10:
“20 However, do not rejoice that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”
This lesson in priorities came as Jesus was cautioning His second troupe of missionaries, who were excited about the fact that evil spirits fled at their mention of His name.
The parable of “the good Samaritan” follows this account, as a pictorial answer to the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (v. 25) After telling His parable in which a social outcast among Israel spared no expense but spent his own resources to rescue and care for a wounded stranger, Jesus answered His inquirer, “Go and do likewise.” (v. 37)
Precious Father, please fashion me into a helpful instrument of Your grace. Cause me to help others even though once I was the one harming them. Divorce me from selfishness and bind me to Your will. Help me heal rather than wound, and love where once I could only compete for attention and esteem. Help me keep from reveling in what I can tread on, but be driven to tread through whatever trouble comes between me and service. May each opportunity to do Your will draw me ever closer to my graduation to Your presence.
From the “Big Book” of Alcoholics Anonymous, page 62:
“He is the Father, and we are His children. Most Good ideas are simple, and this concept was the keystone of the new and triumphant arch through which we passed to freedom.”
*Abstinence began for me on May 11th, 2010.
† For the sake of accountability, the details of my eating are posted in my online food log.