Don't Quit

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit-
Rest if you must, but don't you quit...

I am sitting here contemplating the idea of failure.  I am very tired of feeling like a failure all the time.  I have set a goal for myself that most people don't attempt, and of those that do attempt, most quit, and of those that do manage to win, 70% win only temporarily and gain it back within 5 years.

So...

I have had a very hard few days.  Not hard because dieting is hard.  Hard because not-dieting is even worse.  For me, that is.

I have failed.

This weekend I went out to eat with my husband.  We went to Macaroni Grill and I ate such delicious salty bread dipped in olive oil and cracked pepper, and a tiny Caesar salad on the side.  I told myself I was doing ok because I saved my main dish to take home with me.  But later we went out to eat again.  Curt wanted dessert.  So we went to TGI Friday's and I ordered a huge plate of fried potatoes slathered with a thick layer of gooey and greasy yellow cheese and I covered it with salt and dipped it in sour cream and ate it all up.  Well, not exactly all... Curt was still under the impression that I actually cared about myself.  He suggested I eat half - to stick to my diet - and I complied, when really by this point all I wanted to do was eat that entire plate and ask for seconds and a huge strawberry dessert to finish.  But I didn't.  I even ordered water to drink, rather than a large, calorie- and sugar-laden glass of flavored lemonade.  But I know I was wrong.  None of those half-hearted attempts to stick to my diet really matter, because I know I still failed.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a fellow turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow -
You may succeed with another blow.

I know exactly why I failed.  I didn't plan ahead.  I WANTED that food.  I wanted to eat it.  I just gave up.  I failed because I stopped believing that it mattered what I did in that moment, because I said "Tonight is a special occasion; I will resume tomorrow."  I failed because I decided to forget that tomorrow always comes.  And when I decided to face the consequences "later", I forgot that "later" always comes sooner. 

Temptation comes from our own desires, which entice us and drag us away. (James 1:14, NLT)

I failed because I entertained my desires instead of firmly dismissing them.  And that will never lead to success.  Right now I don't know if I will ever succeed. Right now I firmly believe that I will be fat forever, and that my health will precipitously deteriorate until I am a miserable, helpless, bitter old lump of fleshy sickness, hobbling around cursing my fate.  I have set an impossible goal for myself, and I don't know how to win, when nobody else is winning, and when I don't even know if I want to try anymore.

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup;
And he learned too late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.

No, I know.  I DON'T want to try anymore.  I'm tired of failing.  I'm tired of feeling like I am inherently a loser, unaccomplished, a weak-willed underperformer.  I don't know how to win.  Why should I be different from anyone else?  Weight loss is a billion-dollar a year industry; why do I have the nerve to think I am any different from all the other millions of people who struggle with obesity, including my own family?  Why do I have the nerve to think I am special?  That I deserve more and better?  Why should I bother, when it is a losing game?

Success is failure turned inside out -
The silver tint in the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It might be near when it seems afar;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit -
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.

But that's just the thing - I DO think I'm different.  I do think I deserve more.  I believe that I am exceptional, darn it!  I believe I don't have to be this way, that I'm not supposed to be this way.  I KNOW that I am unusual and extraordinary.  And I know that if I can just figure out HOW to win, I will be a huge example to other people struggling with this very same thing.  I really believe that God is pulling for me.  He wants me to win this too.  I know it!  I just don't know HOW to win...

I remember reading once about when the disciples were struggling with a battle (in Mark 9): after having had some victories, they ran into a particularly harsh failure.  They were confused.  They had seen God's hand at work time after time and now... why had they been so miserably defeated?  Jesus answered that their unbelief had tripped them up.  They had allowed themselves to be overcome by doubt, and in that moment, they slipped.  "Why didn't we win? Why couldn't we defeat that spirit?" they asked Him.   And he responded (Tanica's paraphrase): "There are different kinds of spirits, with different levels of strength. This guy, this one who beat you down, well, he's a strong one.  He can only be thrown out using prayer and fasting."

I have seen God at work in many people's lives.  I have seen miracle after miracle. I know He can; I know He will... He has already told me what I need to do, now I just need to do it.

My husband was cutting the grass one Sunday.  I looked out the window to see my son following patiently behind him.  He had no purpose.  He was not helping.  He was just walking.  He just wanted to be close to daddy.

He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? (Micah 6:8, KJV)

I want to be like that.  I want to be close to my Daddy.  I want to walk so closely with Him, be so intertwined with Him, so wrapped up in Him, that when I think, its His thoughts I hear. When I walk, its His footsteps I follow.  When I eat... He moves my hands and motivates my heart so I desire what He wants me to desire, and then my appetite will drag me closer to Him, and His will for my life.

Becoming more like Him

"Christ is sitting for His portrait in every disciple... The Savior longs to manifest His grace and stamp His character on the whole world. Though satan works to hinder this purpose, yet... there are triumphs to be achieved."  ~E. G. White, "The Desire of Ages" p827

In "Trip Into the Supernatural", Roger Morneau describes walking into the satanist's temple and being impressed by a portrait that hung in a place of honor.  He was shocked when the priest said satan and a few of his demons had actually appeared to the group in order that they could be painted.  The portrait hung before an alter which the worshipers used to perform duties of reverence. 

But here in "The Desire of Ages" we have described another portrait, one that is painted, imprinted, cultivated onto a living canvas.  Everything that God has set up for Himself, satan seeks to take and pervert. God longs to imprint Himself onto our lives, our hearts, our souls, and our bodies.  He longs for us to be so close to Him, so hidden in Him, that whenever anyone looks at us, they see Him.  Unlike the painting that Morneau viewed, we have the opportunity not just to observe the portrait, but to BE the portrait.

This means when anyone looks at me, I can be so much like Christ that nothing distracts the viewer from seeing Him.  But there are so many distractions that block that view of God. Satan hinders others from seeing Christ in us by seeking to destroy God's image.  Using pain, regret and bitterness, confusion, despair, busyness, lack of proper diet and exercise, he blurs the stamp of God's character, instead etching on our faces despair that arises from a lack of faith in God's transformational and redeeming power.  Instead of Christ, we see reflected in our mirrors (and our lives) excess weight, ruined health, debt, lying words, too-short and too-tight clothes, gossipy mouths, TV addition, undisciplined children, bad grades, miserable marriages, and dirty homes.  Is any of this something that one would examine and say, "Wow, I want to live like THAT!"

"Be not deceived," the Bible writer says; "Evil communication corrupts good manners." (1 Cor 15:33)  With whom am I communicating?  Whose portrait is sitting above the alter in my heart?  Whom have I spent time reverencing?  There are only two choices.

White writes further: "All who consecrate soul, body, and spirit to God will be constantly receiving a new endowment of physical and mental power."  Praise God that triumphs can be achieved.  It is amazing to me that every time I fail, God has a plan for redeeming me. If I focus on Him, if I spend time with Him, if I reverence and fear Him, that is the beginning of wisdom.  That will be the beginning of triumphing over the evil one, and a constant influx of physical and mental power will be mine.

"Christ is sitting for His portrait in every disciple..."  What does my portrait look like?

The Trip

So I took my kids to visit my parents this past weekend.  They will be gone for a total of 14 days.  I had hoped to use that time to focus on my juicing and getting healthier while I had no little distractions to force me to eat. 

The good thing is: that is true.  Nobody is here to pull on me every five minutes and ask if it is time for lunch yet.  Or beg me for dessert.  Or ask if I am making Kool-aid, or ask of s/he can have a snack.

The bad thing is... my particular food demon apparently has millions of other ideas to induce me to eat.  (I'm an easy mark.)

To my credit, I have been able to avoid the Victory Eating, the Revenge Eating, the Depressed Eating, the Party Eating, the "I love you and made this yummy dish for you so you have to taste it" Eating, and the We Have People Visiting Eating.  After much struggle, I also was able to just barely squeak past the "I'm On A Trip So I Deserve A Wendy's Chicken Sandwich But I Can't Have One Because I'm Dieting" Pouty Meal. 

But once I got back home what finally caught me up was the realization that nobody's here and I can actually eat in peace.  Time for a Celebration Meal.  Sadly, I thought it might be a great idea to have an IHOP breakfast with just one child.  And then, because I had already messed up my diet for the day, I thought a Stanleo's sandwich (or two) might as well round out my day.  Then, to top it off, for supper I ate a couple scrambled egg and cheese sandwiches & a left-over Hershey bar I found in the pantry.  Because nothing says "I love myself" more than stuffed-stomach indigestion and the resulting sodium-induced, finger-and-foot tingling and subsequent IBS.

Of course, I managed to convince myself that I was performing an experiment.  After all, if I didn't eat, how would I know that my diet was working?  (Well, it made sense at the time...)

I still don't know if the tingling was due to a spike in my blood pressure or because I now have diabetes.  Yep, good times.

Failure?

"We are all 30 seconds from our former selves." ~ Dennis Wallace

My cousin is a very wise man.  He said the above statement, and it touched me deeply.  I have been struggling with the idea that I should be immediately different and things should get easier.  But nothing is getting easier.  Even my hold on God is tenuous and fragmentary.  One second I feel that I am in control and on top of the issue.  The very next second I am shattered, my confidence depleted, trapped in a whirlwind of temptation so strong that I feel as though I will explode if I don't immediately run into the kitchen and eat something.  Silly, yes.  Overwhelming?  That doesn't begin to describe the strength of the temptations, and the resulting emotional upheaval.

I am sending my children to my parents house for 2 weeks.  I feel that if I left them here with me, somebody would die.  (Ok, yes that is hyperbole, but it is an emotional truth.)  I am so up and down with my moods because I get angry that I can't have a bit of spaghetti, or a spoonful of turkey salad.  I frown, and fuss, and swing on my emotional pendulum.  I'm pretty sure my kids think I am insane.  If I wasn't inside my head, I would think I am insane.  Most of the time I don't even catch the frown on my face until my head starts hurting because my face has been squinched up for the past hour for no reason.

So.... I am sending them away.  It is my attempt to hold on to some of my sanity, and to put them in a happier place while I get myself together.  I hope that while they are gone I find the sanity that I apparently put into cold storage.  It is my hope that I will be able to really buckle down and drink my juice all day, every day, so I can be healthier and happier by the time they come back.  With them gone, I will have all day to focus on my goals without any distractions.  I am hoping that will make things easier to manage.

Also, I have heard over and over again that if you are removing one habit, replace it with another.  So I thought it might be a great idea to replace my food addiction and TV habit with a computer game that I used to love.  I called myself finding something clean to obsess over.  So I bought the Sims 2.  I haven't owned or played this game since 2005 but I remembered it being so engrossing that I could play for hours.  Now I thought I would be able to come play whenever I was tempted and it would distract my mind.  Did it work?  I suppose it depends on my definition of success.   I have been able to use it for distraction, yes.  However, I really want to be able to go about my day and accomplish things on my To Do list rather than sit hiding in Curt's office on the computer.  I might as well be on Facebook, or playing MSN Games.  It is all the same thing.  And my level of obsession as been dramatically reduced as far as the Sims game goes.  Unfortunately for me, my real life is way more interesting than the Sims life.  Actually I'm kind of irritated with those little fake people.  My kids, on the other hand, are now completely engrossed in creating and playing this false life.  I think my plan has backfired.  Apparently I really suck at problem solving.  Oh well.  On to the next thing.  Excelsior!

Afternoon is the hardest

It is 5:06pm and here I sit again, waiting for the day to pass.  I send the kids outside, to keep them from destroying the house.  Its very quiet.  Too quiet.  I am bored.  What is in the kitchen?  I have extra sharp cheese, and some Morningstar Farm breakfast patties.  And I can put that on some of my homemade bread heated up with a little butter.  Or.... I could stay in my seat and not move.  If I move I am afraid I will walk into the kitchen.

The hardest part right now is defeating fear.  I am afraid I will fail.  I am afraid what will happen if I succeed.  I am afraid of myself and I am afraid of other people. (What if people start looking at me once I lose weight? I prefer to be invisible.)  I am afraid of my history and I am afraid of not changing.  And I am afraid of my hungry stomach.  My  mind constantly turns to food.  It is deeply entrenched, a 20-year habit; this ever-present longing to have something delicious in my mouth is a force to be reckoned with.  I find that the temptations ebb and flow.  It is hardest in the afternoon. 

I pray that God will remove the altar to food that I have set up. I have used food to deaden the depression that I have been dealing with for more than 35 years.  I have used food to celebrate, to mourn, to connect with others, as peace offerings, as something to hide behind, as punishment.  I have turned to food more often than I have turned to God.  And as such, it became my god.  He told me that it was wrong for me to set it up as a supporter, a consolation, a prize.  He told me I had to give it up, to turn to Him, to listen to Him and obey Him.  And with trepidation, I did.  And here I am a week later, sitting at this desk, afraid to come out from behind the computer.

But God (isn't that always how it is?  "But God" in our weakness.  "But God" in our fear.  "But God" in our darkest moments.  He always comes through!) is still here with me.  His hand is on my shoulder.  He tells me, gently, that it is time to leave this computer and go make the children supper.  He tells me He can be with me in the kitchen too.  He is not afraid.  He has already overcome my addiction.  He knows what I will face in the next 15 minutes.  He is already there, 20 minutes from now.  He already is waiting with a solution to my frustration with my children (which normally I would assuage with chocolate or a Big Frank sandwich), He is already waiting with an answer to my pouting about not being able to eat like "normal" people, He is already waiting to help me defeat this temptation too.  He is bigger than this.  He has already overcome it.  Thank God!

I have arrived?

So yesterday I talked to several people about my struggle with weight and my current attempts to curb my appetite and drop the extra pounds.  I knew in my heart that to talk about it would make me feel like I have already accomplished my goals, but I was unable to stop my mouth from bragging about all I have accomplished so far.

Unfortunately, here I sit, the day after talking about how good God is, and I am afraid to leave this desk.  It is safe here, there are no temptations.  If I get up to get my children's lunch, I will have to walk into the kitchen.  I will have to think about food.  I will have to touch and smell food.  And I don't think I can handle it.

And yet... and yet... I have to keep going.  I have lost 10 lbs so far, probably mostly water weight, in the past 8 days.  I have 59 more pounds to go to my ultimate goal.  My first goal is to lose 10% of the weight that I started from, which would be 19 lbs.  So that is 9 more lbs to my first goal.  I also need to add in exercise, but I don't even want to think about that yet.

I pray.  I pray constantly: "Lord when the enemy comes in like a flood, you said you'd lift up a standard against it.  Please lift up a standard right now!"  It is like Peter, crying out for instantaneous help as he drops precipitously into the surging waters of the lake.  I need help now!  It has worked so far.  And every day, as I see the sun dropping over the horizon and breathe a sigh of relief, I am overwhelmed at God's commitment to me.  Why does He care if I am the healthiest me that I can be?  How He must love me!

Sometimes I think it is easy.  Some moments I feel that I don't even need His help.  Sometimes it feels like it will all be a breeze.  And then, the next second, before I can even finish smiling at the wonderfulness of myself, I am slammed with another temptation.  And then, like Peter, I scream desperately for help, again, and again He helps me.  Instantaneously.  So...

Now I can go into the kitchen, and heat up the salmon butternut balti that I made for the kids, with the jasmine rice which smells nutty and fruity and sweet, all at once, and not feel that I am deprived.  I can drink my watermelon carrot beet ginger juice and add in a dash of cayenne for my blood pressure, and thank God for reminding me how important I am to Him.  And I can come back to my computer and write in my blog with a clear conscience, and a happy heart, because I have not gained any weight today, and the day is half over.  Thank God!