Something I Never Wanted To Tell You, or... Praying To Be Decimated

I was supposed to write this post years ago. I knew that. I knew that I should sit down, own up, and give this giant words on paper.

But I didn't.

I tried to cover it up, push it away, and battle silently (but only when I felt like it). No one else was supposed to know. I got grumpy, angry, and defensive when people touched it.

Getting married made me terrified. How do you keep something like this from the person who knows you the best? You can't. But you can minimize it, hide it, try to make it prettier. Like smearing make-up on a warty frog.

That doesn't work well...

So, I told my husband.

He knew.

But my minimizing, hiding, and subterfuge had done their job. He didn't know the size of the battle. Then again, I don't think I knew the size of the battle. I don't think I wanted to know.

I'm an addict.

I'm addicted, totally, completely, agonizingly... to food.

I love food. I love making food, creating recipes, eating food... Anything that tastes good? I'm there. I love sizzling butter, gooey chocolate, and flaky pastries. I like tender meat, creamy cheese, and crisp potato chips. I love Oreos and PopTarts. No one should love Oreos and PopTarts. They're like sugar paste wrapped in more sugar, coated in dyes and crunchy, unknown substances. BUT THEY TASTE SO GOOD.

Here's the thing about being a food addict. You can't quit it cold turkey. You can't go through withdrawal. You have to eat.

I've tried diets, food journals, exercise (although, I really hate that one. I want to love it. But I actually hate it.).

But it didn't matter.

And I'm glad it didn't.

Because the diets, the calories, the fats, the grains, the delicious, overly-processed sugar... that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that I didn't care that I was sinning. Years of callousness had built-up around this sin. I had focused on eating as a means to serve myself. I was either stuffing myself full because I wanted the taste and texture of the food, or starving myself (never for very long) because I wanted to be skinny. I worshipped food. (Sometimes I still do...)

So I began to pray a very scary prayer. I prayed that God would break me. Decimate me. Help me to mourn over my wickedness.

You can brush it off. You can tell me that it's not really "wicked," per se... But it is. I was viewing myself, my wants, my pleasure as more important that serving God and loving others. I had an idol. I didn't bow down to it, lighting incense and worshiping three times a day, no, but I was pulling up my chair, opening my mouth, and eating it. Is that really any better?

So, I prayed that God would break my callousness wide open. I prayed that He would make me mourn over my sin. That my soul would weep over the people who went unloved, uncared for, because of my idol.

And I had to pray that prayer over and over and over again.

Sometimes, the Holy Spirit bursts through a wall of hardness like water breaking through a dam. Sometimes, He leaks through one little drip at a time. And there's something precious, something sweet about crying out over and over and over again for more of God. He treasures that. Consistent pulling away from sin towards a loving God makes the sin more heinous and the God more precious.

That's why I'm writing this.

Because sin becomes stronger when it's hidden. In the sunlight, it dies.

So, here I am. Transparent.

I am a glutton, fighting for freedom, while resting in the arms of my Savior.

And as I acknowledge my total weakness, my complete depravity, my helplessness, it's not for me. It's not for sympathy, encouragement, or support (although those are all so very nice!). It's because I am held in the arms of a man who died so that I could be free. All that ugliness, all that selfishness, coated as I am in the slimy sin of my own creation, He still loves me. And He died so I could be washed, be free from this disgusting habit.

And I am free!

No, I don't have victory in this area, yes, I am still battling, but Christ has set me free. It's time for this weak, tired glutton to enjoy the radiant peace and beauty of being Christ's sister, God's daughter.

And thanks be to God, He is daily making this more apparent.