We are very weary in the struggle with overeating. We wage this battle every day while discarded days of defeat mount up rapidly behind us. Yet each day seems like an eternity when resisting temptation.
We’re tired of the familiar pattern in the quest for weight loss: pick yourself up from the last failed attempt, motivate to begin again, learn a new strategy, apply willpower, then keep on self-monitoring. Each new attempt meets with ever-diminishing success. Whether we have ten pounds to lose or one hundred, the pattern is the same.
Occasionally we see someone emerge victorious, looking healthy and slim. We view them with a mixture of jealousy and admiration. Chances are we had some glory days too. Somehow we managed to summon the enthusiasm and discipline to conquer the problem, at least temporarily. Yet we know that trouble lies ahead for that new victor. There will be a gradual lessening of motivation, a growing tendency to cheat on the diet, ever-weakening willpower, and more excuses for not exercising.
We long to give up on the battle and turn our attention to other matters. But how can we? Do we give ourselves over to decreasing mobility, discomfort, and susceptibility to disease—not to mention the depressing search for bigger clothes? Do we just smile and accept ourselves while we continue to abuse our bodies with too much food?
Why are there countless numbers of competent people, who are disciplined in so many ways, yet totally at the mercy of this temptation? One of the most basic aspects of life has become a never-ending, losing battle.
We search through stacks of diet books for answers. We listen to talk shows for a bit of sage advice. We scan the covers of magazines for clues. People step forward to tell us their stories, and there are many suggestions that make sense. A few years ago, I read an opinion page in a national magazine, which was written by a man who had solved his overeating problem. Every time he wanted to reach for food, he sat down until his feelings of anxiety subsided. He concluded that, if everyone did what he did, there’d be far fewer weight problems. I wish that were so. He was lucky he had just one reason why he overate; and to his credit, he found a way to stop his pattern. Many overeaters are not so fortunate. We must fight the battle on many different fronts.
We’re helplessly confused in the complexity of the problem. We overeat for a variety of reasons. As soon as we subdue one reason, another rises up and tackles us from behind. We eat to calm ourselves in emotional stress. We celebrate with food. We eat to relieve boredom. We eat when we feel insecure. We love to taste, chew, and warm ourselves with food. We examine ourselves and search out the reasons for our behavior. It’s apparent that eating has become the catchall response to any kind of discomfort, need, or longing.
Food surrounds us constantly, keeping us in a perpetual state of conflict. It’s exhausting to referee these clashing desires. We desperately want freedom from the prison of this inner struggle. We long for some reliable measure of self-mastery amidst temptation. But the power to succeed has completely vanished.
In the numbness of confusion and weakness, we realize that only God can help us. We know we can’t fight this on our own anymore. We’ve stretched the limits of our human capacity to change. We feel powerless. We’ve been knocked down one too many times, and we can’t stand up. With fervent longing, we turn to God. And he is there. We are not alone, and we need God desperately.
Tragedy and temptation make us realize that we need God. In crashing waves of tragedy and dangerous whirlpools of temptation, we reach for the hand of God.
Oh Lord, all my longing is known to you;
my sighing is not hidden from you.
My heart throbs, my strength fails me;
as for the light of my eyes—it also has gone from me.
Psalm 38: 9–10
Next: Reading #2 Part I
Everyday Food and Faith by Vicki Arkens
