Now That I Can See Them

This morning I got on the scale. A few weeks back, after a fast, I found I had the ability to control some behaviors that were causing me problems, and one of them was overeating. The abilities have persisted, so I like to get on the scale to see how I’m doing.

I weighed myself and got a certain figure, which was very satisfactory. Then for some reason, I got on the scale again a minute later. The number was 0.8 pounds lower! Nothing had changed. There was no reason for a difference in the reading. I got on a third time, and the lower reading appeared again. I’m down nearly fifteen pounds. The number has been a couple of pounds lower after a fast, but today’s measurement was after a weekend of normal eating.

Getting a miracle is confusing. The natural tendency is to keep confirming it over and over, until you can accept it. I guess that’s where I am now.

This weekend I saw Perry Stone deliver a message about Lot’s wife. I’m sure you know the story. Mr. and Mrs. Lot lived in Sodom, which was destroyed for selfishness, sexual perversion, dishonesty, mistreatment of visitors, and other sins. God warned them to get out, and they were told not to turn around. Mrs. Lot looked back–the book of Jasher says her children were being destroyed in the holocaust–and she turned into a pillar of salt, and Josephus claimed he saw the pillar later.

It’s an interesting message.

When Lot and Abraham parted ways, Lot chose the part of the land that was near Sodom. He pitched his tent toward Sodom. Perry Stone and some other preacher whose name I forget say this meant he was expressing his interest in the Sodom lifestyle. Lot eventually ended up living in Sodom, surrounded by thieves and perverts. The Bible says their filthy talk vexed him every day. It must have been like living in lower Manhattan.

If I recall Perry Stone’s message correctly, he was telling people not to look back with longing at sinful ways they had left behind.

I’ve been thinking along these lines since the fast I mentioned above. In the past, I wanted to behave in a certain way, but I couldn’t do it, because something (whether flesh or spirit) had a grip on me. Then I found myself “set free, indeed.” But I was tempted to go back. A little voice told me that when my problems blew over, it would be safe to resume living like an idiot. I had no plans to do this, but you know how thoughts are. They roam around in your head like stray dogs.

I suspect that a person whose free will is restored can’t get away with sins that wouldn’t harm an addict much. If you’re tormented by a constant urge to overeat, maybe it’s not a big deal when you break down and have a dozen doughnuts. But what if you’ve been freed by a miracle, and then you decide to eat a whole pizza? That has to be much worse. The temptation is not as powerful, so it’s a sin of will, not weakness.

So I think Perry Stone’s message was right on target, where I’m concerned. I needed to hear it. I don’t want the thought of future lapses in my head. I don’t want to plan my own failure, and I definitely don’t want to lose this.

When I got this unexpected blessing, I wanted to tell other people about it so they could get it, but as usual, I got nowhere with it. I have a horrible track record in this regard. In an email this morning, I said my miracles tend to be boring. If you can stand up and say you instantly dropped a crack habit, people will clap and churches will invite you to speak, but nobody cares when you find yourself able to turn down pizza. There are probably a lot of churches where they’d stone you, with rocks held in empty fried-chicken buckets. Christians want to hang onto that last “acceptable” vice. Many of us are gigantic.

Freedom from food addiction is a great gift. It’s huge. If I drop another fifteen pounds, it will be like taking off a lead apron.

Overeating costs you a lot. It ruins your ability to do many things, such as sports. It cuts way back on your dating pool. Like any addiction, it can make you hate yourself. It will cause people to mistreat you. If you’re married, it can wreck your sex life. It will cost you jobs, because employers like hiring skinny people. It will put a burden on the people around you. You’ll be in the way all the time. People will groan when they see you in a narrow hallway or an elevator or a doorway. They’ll have to sit in the back seat because you’re too big. You’ll crush them on airplanes, because you flow over the armrest. It’s not a trivial thing. I’m beside myself with gratitude. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. I feel like God put a billion dollars in my bank account, and nobody else cares.

Here’s how I see it. Anything that controls you is evil. Right or wrong?

I’ll probably get stoned for saying things like that. But at least now I’ll have a chance of outrunning them.