So after three days of enduring headaches and distracting cravings for sugary treats, by day four I started off feeling good. I even resisted these delightful fruity crepes for breakfast. Later that day I started to feel sick…maybe the flu, maybe stress, maybe it was the wave of grief that seemed to come over me. In that moment all I wanted was one of my favorite comforts when I’m feeling sick. Ginger ale. So I poured myself a glass and felt a tinge of disappointment that I fell of the sugar wagon. I came up with many rationalizations…It’s for medicinal reasons, it’s only one glass of pop (at 39 grams of sugar!!!), haven’t I had to sacrifice enough these past couple of years, I deserve to eat sugar if I want to.
Well as this internal conversation continued I came to a few reflections…
I was struck that as I experienced feeling ill and the weight of my grief I didn’t turn to something that would really sustain me. I went for a quick-fix comfort. Did the ginger ale really heal my ache? It might have made my stomach feel a little better but my heart still hurt. I wanted something tangible and something I could control. If I went to God with my pain, well He’s sometimes mysterious, doesn’t always respond right away, and won’t always give me the answer I’m looking for. But in the end He always offers me comfort and grace. But in that moment I wasn’t patient or trusting enough. Please know that in my critical analysis of my tumbling off the wagon I feel no shame or lasting guilt. I don’t think God is looking for a perfect record of abstaining from sugar for 40 days. I think the hope is that I learn more about myself, my heart. And I’m trying to be faithful to that.
I’m listening to the Lent series at Mars Hill Bible Church where they are studying the book of Jonah (yup the guy and the whale). Some points that struck me were when the pastor said we’ve learned to settle for surface happiness in the place of deep joy. Too often we connect our happiness with life circumstances. I found myself just the other day telling a friend how amazing it is that God has blessed her with a great job and wonderful kids and a loving marriage. Not that these things aren’t a blessing. But what if she didn’t have all these things? Would that mean God doesn’t love her as much? The fact that my husband died absurdly young, that we weren’t able to have children, does that mean I have no cause for joy in my life? The JOY God offers is immovable, is not dependent on circumstances and can exist in the presence of pain. I admit I struggle to know how to really experience this kind of joy because our world does not measure our happiness in the same manner. And this joy doesn’t seem to naturally happen. In some ways it feels like it is a choice of the heart and mind not an emotional reaction.
So I guess one hope I have for this Lenten journey is that I won’t continue to look to a pint of ice cream for immediate happiness (although there is something heavenly about hagendaz’s chocolate peanut butter) but that I can find my way to the immovable joy.
Well as this internal conversation continued I came to a few reflections…
I was struck that as I experienced feeling ill and the weight of my grief I didn’t turn to something that would really sustain me. I went for a quick-fix comfort. Did the ginger ale really heal my ache? It might have made my stomach feel a little better but my heart still hurt. I wanted something tangible and something I could control. If I went to God with my pain, well He’s sometimes mysterious, doesn’t always respond right away, and won’t always give me the answer I’m looking for. But in the end He always offers me comfort and grace. But in that moment I wasn’t patient or trusting enough. Please know that in my critical analysis of my tumbling off the wagon I feel no shame or lasting guilt. I don’t think God is looking for a perfect record of abstaining from sugar for 40 days. I think the hope is that I learn more about myself, my heart. And I’m trying to be faithful to that.
I’m listening to the Lent series at Mars Hill Bible Church where they are studying the book of Jonah (yup the guy and the whale). Some points that struck me were when the pastor said we’ve learned to settle for surface happiness in the place of deep joy. Too often we connect our happiness with life circumstances. I found myself just the other day telling a friend how amazing it is that God has blessed her with a great job and wonderful kids and a loving marriage. Not that these things aren’t a blessing. But what if she didn’t have all these things? Would that mean God doesn’t love her as much? The fact that my husband died absurdly young, that we weren’t able to have children, does that mean I have no cause for joy in my life? The JOY God offers is immovable, is not dependent on circumstances and can exist in the presence of pain. I admit I struggle to know how to really experience this kind of joy because our world does not measure our happiness in the same manner. And this joy doesn’t seem to naturally happen. In some ways it feels like it is a choice of the heart and mind not an emotional reaction.
So I guess one hope I have for this Lenten journey is that I won’t continue to look to a pint of ice cream for immediate happiness (although there is something heavenly about hagendaz’s chocolate peanut butter) but that I can find my way to the immovable joy.
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