Hungry for More

I'm now about 2-1/2 weeks into my new low-carb diet recommended by my doctor. I'm past the intense sugar cravings, and I've settled into a kind of protein-veggie rhythm, punctuated by sweet potatoes and unsweetened yogurt.

It's been a curious experience to reroute my appetite like a riverbed. My once bread-based diet has changed, and the benefits are noticeable.

One change that has surfaced above all else is that my overwhelming desire to feel better has trumped the once captivating allure of comforting desserts. It's become much more important to have a deeper level of constant well-being than to settle for the highs and lows of blood sugar spikes and crashes.

Realizing this has given me more resolve to continue with my treatment plan and to stick to a diet I once thought I could not maintain for more than a day or two tops.

This deeper level of physical peace is very similar to the deeper level of spiritual peace that God is trying to teach me. Today, I read a short article on the "Desiring God" blog called "The Sin of Not Wanting Enough." The heart of the article is that we need to want more from God than just the circumstantial comforts of health, well-being, and a pleasant life. Like sugars, these things are wonderful and satisfying for a time, but when they don't last, the cycle of high-then-crash can be painful and rocky.

When it comes to desiring God, we have to desire him for who he is - his truth, his promises, his saving grace. When we hunger for Jesus and take him in regularly through reading his word, we maintain our "spiritual blood sugar" and can have peace in all circumstances, even during the most distressing and terrible trials. Jesus provides long-term comfort that does not fade or wear out.

I have to be real and admit that in my humanity I spend a lot of time praying and hungering for better circumstances, for a "normal" life, for happiness that is due to what's around me rather than what's inside me.

Reading this quote today reminded me of where my heart needs to look in order to be anchored and how powerful I can be when Jesus gives me peace that can't be shaken.

By faith we are comforted that all things, no matter how painful or sweet, will work together for our good, reaping eternal benefits that are so wonderful that they can’t even be compared to our grief (1 Peter 1:6, Romans 8:28). True faith believes that God is good and rewards those who seek him (Hebrews 11:6).

If as Christians we are called to endure difficult trials and yet always receive temporal blessings like health and safety, our peace could not rightly be called the “peace that passes understanding”. It would actually be quite reasonable.

If you hunger and thirst for righteousness, blessed are you! (Matthew 5:6)

Weak in Battle?

While doing some studying yesterday, I came across this verse which encouraged me.

"For the eyes of the LORD range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him."
2 Chronicles 16:9

Sweets Surrender

My doctor recently advised that I temporarily cut carbohydrates out of my diet. No fruits, grains, or sugars. This sounds simple until you try it. I have never before in my life realized how much I depended on bread, pasta, cereal, and desserts to get me through each day.

And as for the advice that drinking more water helps fight off sugar cravings? It's bogus.

I am fighting a battle constantly to overcome my desire to blow my diet and chow down on a piece of cake, warm toll-house chocolate chip cookies, brownies...heck, at this point, I'd settle for a bowl of oatmeal.

And it's only been one week. One week!

While eating every fathomable combination of meat and vegetable, I've had a lot of time to think about my craving for sugar - how I gravitate toward carbohydrates for comfort and how I don't like the feelings of deprivation that this diet brings. In some sense, I feel more in control by squashing my low blood sugar, eating more nutritious foods, healing my stomach. But in other ways, I feel this is one of the more frustrating limitations stacked on top of so many others in my life right now.

With chronic illness, it's easy to be focused on what I *can't* do. Being limited and restricted compared to others my age is the name of the game. In some sense, I've grown use to it, but when a particular restriction (like no sugar) prevents me from doing something I desperately want to do, it hits me in a weak spot. I tend to lash out and have a temper when I feel out of control, and yesterday was no exception. I was overtired, lonely, and hungry for just a taste of what I used to eat all the time, but I was faced with a choice - to take the doctor's advice and try to keep going, or to give in to my craving.

I'd like to say I took the high road, but I ate a soy dessert bar.

Today, I woke up and figured I might as well have a few chocolate-covered almonds since I'd broken my streak. I just barely stopped short of eating more than four, realizing I wasn't going to make my failure worse by opening the floodgates.

Struggling against my craving for sweets can be brutally difficult, especially when I falter like I did yesterday. But it comforts me to know that I can start over today. I don't have to give up completely. As a perfectionist, that's a classic excuse of mine - "I already failed, so I might as well throw it all away." In order to fight that, I've had to cling to the promise that through faith in Christ, my failures are all washed away - my temper, my mistakes, my bad attitude. Repeated new beginnings are so important to persevering. Whether the struggle is with illness, a job, maintaining a diet, or surviving a tough patch emotionally or spiritually, it seems that stumbling in the pursuit of a better life is part of the process. Right now, I'm learning that truly meaningful victory is composed of a series of failures and new beginnings, not a long run of perfection.

"How" not "If"

I discovered a new cool show called "The Universe" on the History Channel. Mike and I have been watching a few of the episodes lately. It is a series that explains scientific theory about various aspects of the solar system, the galaxy, and the universe itself. For me, there are always surprises when watching a show like this. For example, I learned that the center of our galaxy is not a star or a planet but, in fact, a black hole. There are geysers of water on one of Saturn's moons. The show is just a series of incredible and fascinating facts.

While getting my hair cut recently, I was talking about the show with the stylist who cuts my hair. A space enthusiast himself, he eagerly described one of the episodes I had not seen. As we continued the discussion, he began one sentence by saying, "If there is a Creator..."

These days it's not uncommon to run into someone who doubts that there is a God who created space, time, matter, life, and all that we see and experience. It still throws me off a little though to hear someone so enthralled with science and the intricacies of space questioning the source of the detailed intelligence that holds it all together. I wince a bit when I think of that word "if."

However, when I think back to the times when I have been the hardest pressed emotionally and physically, the word "if" often stirs up doubts that have long settled to the ocean floor of my soul. It takes a life-altering event like an illness or a tremendous loss to stir that sediment up until I'm disoriented, sitting in a mess of cloudy, murky water. "If God loved me, wouldn't he have protected me from this?" "If God was all powerful, wouldn't he have intervened by now?"

And those questions are where I lose my footing a bit. I have had more than the average number of trials for a person my age, at least for someone in America. It's kind of understood that you'll have to endure challenges in life, but like a roller coaster, there are expected peaks after the valleys. There is an expectation of hands to hold through the darkness until it's light again, not abandonment by those you counted on the most. It's almost socially unacceptable these days to walk through a trial for years without end. People start thinking that maybe there's something you're doing wrong or something you did to deserve it. Maybe you're being overly dramatic or things aren't as bad as you make them sound. It's even harder when the trial isn't a common one like a broken bone or a lost job. When the suffering is long and when it's not well understood, it's easy for faith to weaken, to wobble, to start wondering "if" God is really there, "if" God will really come through, "if" you might just not make it.

When I read the Bible this morning, I was reminded of two people who had very unusual experiences in their lives, and one of them wondered if God was really going to pull through for him, while the other person saw it was impossible and believed God for it anyway.

I have a soft spot in my heart for this story because the second person, the faithful one, was a young woman. The first person, the one who asked for a sign and doubted initially was a priest - a well-respected man. These two stories are told back to back, I think, in order to emphasize the contrast in response to the life-altering news they had just been given.

Zechariah was an old man, a priest, childless, and had just been going about his duty in the temple when an angel appeared to him and told him he was going to have a very special son - the man who was prophesied about in Isaiah as the one who would prepare the way for the Messiah. When Zechariah heard this, instead of believing his old and barren wife would miraculously conceive a child as he had been told, he said: "How shall I know this?" He still didn't buy it. The angel made him temporarily mute "because you did not believe my words, which will be fulfilled in their time."

The second story is about Mary, the young virgin mother of Jesus. Presented with an even more impossible-sounding message, Mary learns from an angel that she will become pregnant with a child who will be the Messiah. Instead of questioning the veracity of the message, she instead merely asks out of curiosity how God will accomplish this miracle in her. "How will this be, since I am a virgin?" The angel explained to her the details, and later Mary was praised as "blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord."

This verse made an impression on me as I read this morning. I thought about the promises of God for my future, to never leave me, to guarantee a place of rest and reward for patient endurance through trials, and it occurred to me that my mindset is so often tempted to wonder "if" God will really carry through on his promises instead of "how" these things will take place. It's a humbling reminder to consider Mary's faith in light of the humiliation and complete isolation she'd be forced to endure as an unmarried pregnant woman.

In the midst of circumstances that don't make sense, I'm encouraged to not waiver in my belief that God will do what he has promised concerning justice, redemption, healing, and grace. By his grace, I have a place in his house someday soon, and by his sacrifice on the cross, I have mercifully been given a place in his family. When God asks me to go through the unexplainable or unimaginable, I want to be humbly obedient like Mary who said, "Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word."

Battles Not Yet Won

One of the side effects of my chronic illness is a disrupted sleep schedule.

"Disrupted" is a polite way to put it. "Completely screwed up" is probably a bit more descriptive.

The way it works is this: No matter when I fall asleep, the next day I always need to fall asleep a little later. The result is that my "nighttime" migrates (cycles) around the clock. I will sleep during the night like a normal person for about a week, but progressively, I will begin sleeping into the morning hours. As time passes, I will eventually be sleeping fully in the afternoon, and so forth, back to an early evening bedtime again.

For example, yesterday, I fell asleep at 2 PM. Today's bedtime will likely be at 4 PM. This is caused by a disruption of my circadian rhythm - that finely balanced cycle we all take for granted to make us sleepiest at 4 AM and most alert at noon. I've tried 1,001 ways to fix it (one attempt which landed me in the ER), but ultimately, following my unnatural rhythm has been the only way to have any hope of functioning. Granted. I lose a week or so every month to sleeping through days, but those nights can be quite productive.

Since I can't keep a normal routine from day to day (such as scheduling regular morning devotions or taking a quick walk every day before dinner), I have had to be a bit more creative in the "good habit-forming department," otherwise good intentions go flying everywhere like bowling pins once my circadian rhythm rolls into a new week. Today I got up at 10:30 PM, ate "breakfast," did some gentle yoga, and showered. I then started my makeshift day with a chapter of scripture.

Still in the early chapters of Deuteronomy, I have been reading the final sermon from Moses to the Israelites just before he died. His last remarks are to review with this new generation their covenant with God and their mission: They were supposed to go in and take over the Promised Land. ...Buuuut....as a nation, they didn't have such a great track record when it came to trusting God to provide in overwhelming situations (kind of like me). Instead, they preferred to focus on their problems, complain, and basically tell God he should have just left them in slavery (the equivalent of yelling "I wish I'd never been born!" in nation language). The last time they were told to go in and possess their land, the description of their enemies was so intimidating and discouraging that they just freaked out, sat down, and gave up.

So Moses knows that this second time around (about 40 years later) is really important. Confronted with the same daunting enemies, will they run in fear or will they trust God? As the previous generation of unbelievers had passed away, God had preserved the nation by raising up their children, now grown, to march in and receive the land the nation should have had decades earlier.

Moses knew this was a time for encouragement if ever encouragement was needed. Their enemies were still as big and intimidating as ever. Feelings of fear and inadequacy were bound to surface in a people who had been living as nomads for 40 years. There had been a lot of suffering, a lot of death, a lot of waiting. Focusing solely on their present situation, it would be easy to get dejected, asking "What if we just can't do it?"

What struck me as I read last night was how often I ask that same destructive question - "What if I just can't do this?" When big fears come into play, my first reaction is to take stock of my own resources and see that I'm woefully lacking. Being chronically ill means my emotional and physical reserves are already bordering on "empty" a lot of the time. Looking at my energy gauge and then seeing the daunting journey in front of me can give me a feeling of complete inadequacy and hopelessness. How do you drive down a long desert road with no gas in your tank?

It's easy from my perspective to knowingly shake my head at the fear of the Israelites. I mean, I've read the whole story. I know they go in and live in the land. I know how it ends. Imagine if an Israelite from Moses' day had my perspective. No sweat. He'd wave the complete Bible around and yell, "Here it is in the book, guys! We do win after all!" They would waste no time charging in and taking each city.

I imagine I would have that kind of bold determination too if I could see my life written out. I'd march into victories a whole lot more confident. I'd stand a little taller. I wouldn't be so afraid. Isn't that what we all want? Isn't that why fortune tellers and astrologers are so popular? If I could just KNOW that I'll have a child. If I could just be SURE I'd get a job soon. If I could just catch a glimpse of a time when I will be healthier. If I could see this situation resolved or this person saved by faith - then I could rest a little easier at night in the midst of this battle.

But just like God does not reveal to us the specific details of our journey, God does not show the Israelites their outcome either. They never see the nation of Israel under King David or the temple built by Solomon. Instead, when they fear the most, he gives them this instruction:

If you say in your heart, "These nations are greater than I. How can I dispossess them?" you shall not be afraid of them but you shall remember what the LORD your God did to Pharaoh and to all Egypt, the great trials that your eyes saw, the signs, the wonders, the mighty hand, and the outstretched arm, by which the LORD your God brought you out. So will the LORD your God do to all the peoples of whom you are afraid.

The command is: Remember. Remember it's not about your weakness; it's about God's strength. Remember God's past acts of faithfulness. Remember he is Creator of the sun, the moon, the stars. Remember he is in charge over all life. Remember he is personal. Remember he intervenes for us. Remember he delivers. When I fear, I must remember God's spotless reputation for caring for his people.

A few days ago, I was spending some time writing out a short version of my personal story of how Jesus has changed my life. Once I started to write, I realized that I couldn't fit all of God's goodness to me in one short essay. There was SO MUCH Jesus had done in my life that I wanted to write it all. I came away from the experience with a rather condensed and stiffly written testimony but a heart full of renewed confidence, having remembered all of God's past acts of faithfulness to me.

As I reflected on the past, my faith in Jesus, and how God has proven himself over and over during the hard times, it occurred to me:

The curious thing about looking back and remembering Jesus on the cross is that it's really not looking back at all.

The reality of the cross is that we are looking forward. We are looking toward the time when Christ will come back again. We are looking forward to our healed bodies. We are looking forward to our complete victory over sin and temptation. We are looking forward to never again being enslaved, intimidated, discouraged, or afraid. By looking back to remember Christ, we inherently remember that we have a future.

During a late-night exercise session this week, I was listening to "Days of Elijah" (on my playlist at right) and was moved once again by the triumphant lyrics. As I sang and walked, I felt tears sting my eyes - not of sadness and defeat but of such unspeakable joy. For at that moment, my soul was remembering the great and glorious future that is yet to come. My deliverance from the problems in this world seems long in coming, but I have a Savior, and he reminds me to look at him and keep on walking despite the pain. I need only remember, the Promised Land is not that far away.

Who is your King?

"Savior."
"King."
"We are witnesses."
"Lifting the curse."

Sounds like I'm talking about... a certain basketball star?

Religious language has consistently surrounded one particular sports celebrity because of his tremendous athletic ability and potential to bring victory to a struggling city. His move to a new team, announced tonight, is making big waves.

When I read the outraged reactions of scorned fans ("you are dead to me"), it reminded me of how deep and penetrating our hunger is for God, yet how we fill it with idols like this talented man.

A long time ago, I heard a sermon illustration that made me cringe. A pastor admitted that he once got so thirsty when he was a boy that he bent down and slurped the water from an oil-slicked puddle in a parking lot. His thirst had driven him to drink dirty, contaminated water in place of the real, pure thing.

This powerful (and gross) example shows the depths to which we as humans will sink to quench our thirst. Even stronger than our thirst for water, however, is our driving need for love, for victory, for someone to save us.

I have settled so many times for idols that did not deliver - friends, love, academic achievement, even strangers that I admired. I put my hope for happiness in people and things that were never meant to bear the weight of that hope. I talked to a friend this week who knows he has placed his hopes, his worth, and his value in the hands of the wrong group of people, and yet, he can't seem to break free.

Whether it's a political figure, an athletic star, or a music legend, there is no one on earth who can deliver what we need deep in our souls. There is no husband or wife, no child or parent, no pet or movie or habit or food in the world that can feed what we need inside, what we hunger for so desperately.

These outcries I've read from devastated fans who've lost their "king" are symptoms of a much more serious thirst - the deep need for a real Savior who has the power to truly save, for The King of kings who has eternal and lasting authority. Looking for your hopes and dreams to be fulfilled in a sports championship is like drinking from a puddle in a parking lot. We were built to drink in so much more than that - to fellowship with God of all creation through a living, daily relationship with Jesus Christ, champion over sin and death itself.

Today, as I read about Jesus making his final journey to Jerusalem before his death, I caught a glimpse of the kind of hero I've been searching for all my life. Not only had he determined with resolute strength to endure unimaginable suffering for my sake, but he so firmly determined it as to "set his face like a flint." I love that description of him as it calls to mind a man so full of strength and power that all the evil forces of hell and suffering and death could not shake his confidence. His love was so strong for me that he resisted every ounce of his humanity that must have screamed for him to turn back.

Not only this, but as he drew closer to his certain betrayal and brutal execution, he paused because a man in distress cried out in faith, asking for healing. In all that he was facing, he never lost his patience and compassion for the lowest of the low in society or for the sickest and most disabled.

If that wasn't enough, he had the power to perform miracles. And just as he healed the blind man that day, he used that same awesome power to endure what no other human could, bearing the weight of all sin and rising from the dead to stand alive outside his own grave.

He did this all to save you and to save me.

Now, that's a King truly worthy of praise. Do you know him?

Delay is Not Denial

Recently, I made a decision to pursue healthier eating and more consistent exercise.

After a visit with my doctor, I was convicted that I needed to take my eating choices more seriously and to make exercise even more of a priority. My doctor suggested that I read a book called "Anti Cancer" which was written by a doctor/scientist who himself had beaten brain cancer and a relapse. The author (David Servan-Schreiber, MD, PhD) explained some of the subtle and easy changes that can be made in order to live a healthier life and to make the body a less hospitable cancer host.

Although I don't have cancer, improving the way I eat and live will bring me positive results in the long run. I have only one body here on earth, and I have a responsibility to take care of it now so that in 20 or 30 years I will be less likely to develop any number of conditions - diabetes, heart disease, and cancer included.

Because of my toxic mold and pesticide exposures about 11 years ago, I already know that I have a higher chance of developing cancer than the average person. Being in an environment where I breathed carcinogens and VOCs (volatile organic compounds) that affected my immune system and my nervous system caused me to have a number of symptoms indicating my exposure had reached toxic levels.

I suffered from extreme fatigue, swollen and sore lymph nodes, mental confusion and disorientation, constant dizziness, nosebleeds, disequilibrium, inability to multitask, frequent urination, severe gastrointestinal distress, weight loss, headaches, severe muscle aches, muscle twitching, sore throats, irritability, memory problems, and the need to sleep constantly.

During that very dark time, it was hard for me to be around even the most "innocuous" household chemicals. My system was overly sensitized and reacted to things that don't bother the average person. I felt sick from pesticides sprayed in grocery stores and movie theaters. The herbicides used by neighbors or around school would disable me completely. My environment seemed to set me off no matter where I went. Perfumes, cigarette smoke, even the detergent aisle would make me sick.

I've come a long way since those years of early chemical sensitivity through avoidance and slow recovery over time. It has been hard for me to accept, but the damage has been done, and my autonomic nervous system does not function like it should. This damage is a long-term consequence of events that happened years ago. Though I did not have control over those events or their consequences, I do have the power to make healthy decisions now that will positively affect my future.

In the past week or so, I have cut out most of the sugary desserts I used to use as comfort food. I have sought out organic fruits and vegetables as a snack rather than just grabbing whatever carbohydrate is nearby. I am also learning the powerful effects of antioxidants like the ones in green tea. Even though my illness prevents me from overdoing it on aerobic exercise, I have looked into stress-relief yoga and tried various DVDs from the library. I am trying to walk more often and stay consistent with taking my vitamins. I realize that all of these choices are small and rather inconsequential now, but they add up over time.

It's funny to me that this weekend, even after all of the healthy food and yoga attempts, I still felt terrible. It's hard to do the right thing and still get unpleasant results. Often, that's what determines our will to go on, the strength of our perseverance and desire to succeed. Can I overcome that hurdle to keep making healthy choices? Or will I go back to a hit-and-miss lifestyle of doing and eating what feels good in the moment?

I think spiritually the same theme applies. I am making choices daily to cling to God. I exert my will to seek him out in the Bible, to worship him through finding praise songs to sing, to listen to sermons online even when I can't be at church, and to pray regularly, pouring my heart out to God. I believe that these are the decisions that keep the soul from succumbing to the toxic spiritual exposure of living in a godless world - a world that wants to do what feels good now without regard for what will happen after death. How easy it is to be lulled into the false sense of security of this life that seems to go on day after day without end. How easy it is to subscribe to "if it feels good, it must be right."

But God commands us to live a different way. Moses was commended for his faith because he chose "to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeing pleasures of sin." Whenever we obey God's word over how we feel, whenever we do the right thing and show compassion rather than judgment, whenever we cling to Christ rather than caving to the world, God sees it, and he rewards it.

I am encouraged today that even though I have not yet seen the realization of my answered prayers, I know those blessings are coming down the line. He blesses the man and woman who wait on him, who cling to him, who daily make the tough choices to keep going even when the immediate results don't seem fair.

Keep going on your journey with Christ because God's delays in reward are not his denials. In fact, His greatest rewards for us have yet to be seen!

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him"
1 Corinthians 2:9