Sweet Sin

I can get just so far in the day and then BAM!  I can't say no to myself.  I could blame it on addiction.  I could blame it on the brain chemistry of addicted people.  I could blame it on the USDA or the FDA or WalMart for selling the stuff that has the crack in it.  I wonder if I could sue McDonald's?  Hmmmm....  Bottom line:  it's sin.  God has shown me that I am to just. not. eat. the. stuff.  But I get to a certain part of the day or a certain level of stress or a certain level of temptation because of what others are eating, and I cave.  And it's a conscious cave. And I do it anyway.  That is sin.

You can read about the different views, or "models" of addiction and treatment--the medical model, the moral model, the temperance model, etc., here:  http://www.addiction-rehabilitation.com/models.html

My understanding as I have researched and studied for school and now for my job is that there are some people who really do have a particular physiological makeup that makes them prone to addiction.  That might be a genetic thing or it might be a result of abuse/neglect/trauma that has caused these folks' brains to function in a way that makes them more susceptible to addiction.

SO WHAT.

Yep.  I really just said that.  I also know paraplegics that play basketball way better than I ever could hope to. I know people who have been sexually, physically, mentally, and emotionally abused who are upstanding citizens and fantastic parents.  It's called OVERCOMING.  I may have a physical predisposition toward addiction, but IT IS STILL A CHOICE.

And when I choose to do what God has shown me not to do, that is known as SIN.

God is gracious.  He has put up with my rebellion for months--even years.  Back when the kids were little I first started learning about the dangers of sugar.  I remember the severe blood sugar lows I experienced when I was pregnant with Abby, to the point that I would have to lay down because I knew I was about to pass out, and I would be asleep for 20 or 30 minutes while Emily and Spencer were right there in the room with me.  The doctors could prove it with blood tests but they couldn't explain it.  Looking back, I remember the day that I sat in a healing service and actually felt the power of God move through me and I knew, I KNEW I had been healed of my hypoglycemia.  I also remember the voice of God saying to me "Go and sin no more".  I remember starting to eat a donut and realizing I didn't even want the whole thing.

I couldn't even tell you the number of times that I've kicked sugar out of my household.  Or the number of times that I've conquered it personally and been completely sugar-free.  Someone asked me recently if I think I will give up all sugar, or only refined sugar.  I don't know!  That's what makes this thing so darn hard.  It's a food item.  For now, I really think God is saying anything added.  So, unsweetened applesauce is in.  Barbecue sauce is out.  A banana is in. A mocha from the cafe is out.  And for me, for my body, it's more than just sugar.  I now know that I have a gluten sensitivity/allergy.  Dairy is not my friend.  Legumes--not my friends.  I followed the Whole30 for, well, 30 days, and was transformed.  Never felt better in my life.

And you know, I've asked God about all that, too.  I have so much to share about all this....really can't get it all in one blog post, and am pretty sure no one really would want to read it anyway.  But here's the gist:  Dr. told my mom that she was predisposed to cancer, that she did not have the genetic makeup to fight the cancer cells.  She died at 56 of cancer.  They called it breast cancer, but there was some talk about whether or not it actually started in the breast or came from somewhere else first.  Anyway, if she was genetically predisposed to not be able to fight off cancer cells, then there's a good chance that my physical makeup could be similar.  I haven't been tested and don't plan to be, but you know, it's a possibility, right?   At some point when I was doing really well with eating right and feeling fantastic and there was a bunch of news about the radiation fallout that was hitting the United States and the radiation levels they were finding in milk from cows in like Wisconsin (for real), it all sort of dawned on me that I had some work to do for the Kingdom and what if God had my body react to certain foods so that I wouldn't eat them so I wouldn't die earlier than I would otherwise?  (Follow all that?)

Of course, God is bigger than any of this and He COULD just choose to heal me like He's done with other things in my life and POOF!  I'd be all better and could go and serve Him, yada, yada, yada.  But God just does not always choose to work that way.  Instead, I have found that when I am doing something that He has specifically called me to do, He is gracious enough to push all the symptoms away and I can function as though I have no physical limitations.  But once the event is over (like the recent benefit I helped with and ate pasta, drank  pop, and ate desserts and then thought I was healed because I felt FANTASTIC...until about three days later when it all hit me HARD), I'm right back to my wayward physical body wreaking havoc with my daily living.

Okay, lots of rambling here and lots of self-reflection and lots of saying the same things I've said in other posts right here on this dumb blog.  It's the same ol', same ol'.  Bethann has issues and Bethann needs to deal.

You know how some dogs are really sensitive to certain physical ailments in people?  There was that story about the Schnauzer that lived at a nursing home, and he would go in and stay with a certain elderly person, would not leave their side, and in a day or two they'd be dead?  (I'd be like, "NO!  Get this dog out of my room!  Now!")  The dog just knew they were close to death.  And there are dogs that are trained to recognize a seizure is coming, and other ailments.  Well, we've got two dogs that are really intuitive.  One is Lulah-Belle, recently given to us by the daughter of a cancer victim.   This dog has decided that I belong to her.  She is by my side constantly.  She knew that I was moving toward a fibro flare-up.  I'm sure of it.  She has been so attentive and so nervous, and sure enough, I got hit hard last week.

Well, this morning, Katie's dog was sitting right next to me.  I had these two cookies by my coffee cup.  He's no dummy---he may have wanted a bite of cookie.  But it was more than that.  He's been acting strange right along side my Lulah-dog the last few days, too.  And this morning every time I'd take a bite of one of those cookies, he would jump up on me, scratch my arm (ouch!), whine, act all crazy.  He never does this just because someone is eating in front of him.  I mean, it looks like normal spoiled dog behavior, but it's not NATE'S normal behavior, you know?  I finally realized that he is trying to tell me to not eat that cookie.

That's how good our God is.  How intricately he cares for me.  That He would cause my daughter's dog to audibly tell me to stop eating the cookie (in dog language, of course).  I gave him the rest of the cookie.

I have to get ready for work.  How will I serve the people that God sends me to if I can't move, can't think?  How will I serve my family if all I can do is moan about how much I hurt, if I can't cook, can't clean, because I am exhausted, in pain, or experiencing an anxiety attack?  These things go away when I eat "clean". 

Lakeview's reading for today is Ephesians 6.  Putting on the whole armor would certainly benefit my attempts at overcoming my temptation toward eating all the wrong things.  But I like verse 10, too. 

"¹⁰Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might."  (http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ephesians 6&version=ESV)

I need to just let Him be my strength.  I died to sin and it is Christ Who lives in me.  I need to let Him.  He's made it perfectly clear, right down to a dog clawing at me and whining at me, almost as clearly as Balaam's donkey, telling me to Put. The. Cookie. DOWN.  You know, he ate that cookie and then left the room.  Didn't beg for more.  Just left.  I really believe that God used Nate to be one more thing to show me that God really is telling me how to eat, and that I better do it!

Wow.  I am that loved.  Gotta run now...there's work to be done...and cookies to leave for someone else to eat.