By: Jana Greene
The house is dark and quiet. It is five o’clock in the morning and I’ve been up for hours now, with a belly unable to digest the cookies I ate during a late-night bender and a mind unwilling to forgive myself for going on the binge at all. As a matter of fact, I’d like to use a picture of the cookies for this blog post, but they are all gone – nothing but a sad, empty package and a chocolate fallout of crumbs on the carpet.
They were generic Oreos, a very poor substitute for the real thing. I remember thinking it would be easy to only eat a few, because they were an inferior product, but no. I just kept consuming because the consuming itself was a comfort, and it had been a hard day. I would promise myself just one more, and then promise myself just ONE more after that. After a while, I didn’t even taste the cookies – that’s the crazy part. Just hand to mouth, mindless motion and quasi-momentary satisfaction. As if faux-Oreo cream could smudge out all the challenges of the day. After a while, I stopped believing my own promises.
No harm done, short of raising triglycerides and adding more fluff to my frame.
And a helping of very non-generic grade regret this very early morning.
Possibly the only good thing about insomnia is that it gives me time to talk to God without so many distractions. In the frenetic pace of daily life, I get distracted easily. I pray for my family and friends, and that God will reveal His will for me for the upcoming day it to me in such a way that I won’t wonder if it is He who is sending it or just a figment of a belly full of late night cookies and some random clues. Because I can mix up the two, sometimes.
I feel my Heavenly Father nearby – the unmistakable primal presence of His – and He brings to mind one of my favorite Psalms as I pray.
“ For His anger lasts only a short time. But His favor is for life. Crying may last for a night, but joy comes with the new day.” – Psalms 30:5
A day’s trouble lasts a day, unless I invite it to stay longer. Sorrows may last through the night, but JOY comes in the morning. God says it right there: we are not designed to dread each new day, chasing after comfort in a mindless motion of quasi-momentarily satisfaction. We are made to anticipate joy in the morning, every new morning. Our mistakes from yesterday fading like yesterday’s bellyache. Forgiving benders and binges, even extending that forgiveness toward ourselves – sweeping up the crumbs and moving on.
Perhaps my anger at myself should only last a short time. Maybe there is no need for regret.
It’s now 5:30 a.m. in the Greene house and all is still dark and quiet. Even this early, God has made a thousand promises to me – offering grace, acceptance, forgiveness and love. Those are promises that all the cookies and clues in the world can’t make. His favor is for life!
This day looks pretty….promising.
When I had to become gluten free I thought that’d be the end of the binges. No more stopping on the way home for a hamburger, or a 20 pack of timbits…. but it seems I have replaced sugar with salt and now eat chips, cornchips, etc by the bagfull. I was reflecting on it last night, when on the way home from a long meeting at which none of the food served was gluten free and I was tired, ticked and feeling the sorry me’s I picked up chips and dip and diet pepsi (seriously) and enjoyed a movie fest and most of the chips. I want to replace those times with God, but am still struggling with how to do that…the satisfaction of bite chew gulp is just so comforting. Thank God for grace and the morning in which all things are new again. Peace to you and thanks for the encouragement.
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Yes, Ena! That satisfaction of bite, chew, gulp! It is rather comforting. I guess we should get back on our respective horses on this new day and remember to ask God for help with our compulsions BEFORE locking in on target. That’s my issue anyway, I don’t ask sometimes because I want to be naughty. Ah, thank Him for His unending New Days! Hugs to you 🙂
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“A day’s trouble lasts a day, unless I invite it to stay longer.”
Brilliant. May I tweet you?
love,
andy
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Oh, yes, certainly! Thank you, Andy. Tweet away 🙂
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