This week I started a cleanse. You know, one of those diets where you eat fruits, veggies, minimal protein, and no carbs so your body can get rid of all those toxins you have been collecting in your digestive system. Since yesterday I have done my by best to ignore the call of cinnamon rolls, pigs-in-a-blanket and leftover grilled chicken. Six hours into my cleanse I realized just how much I worship food. Not like, not even love, outright worship. For some reason I had the idea that just because I have the self-control not to eat a cookie every time I walk past the cookie jar I have my love of food under control. Well, I do not, sad to say.
Yesterday, I did not pray when I was hungry. Yes, I did work on things that needed to be done, but I spent my fair share of time complaining to my family about how hungry I was and how much I wanted to eat something substantial. I let my hunger and exhaustion get the best of me while I moped and snapped at my family. Every time I open the pantry I looked up longingly at the jar of Nutella. All in all, I was a pathetic mess.
So today, instead of looking at the jar of Nutella and thinking about how I cannot eat any, I will look at the contents of the vegetable drawer and think about how I can eat all of that. Instead of moping I will work at what needs to be done. Instead of laying around thinking about steaks, I'll go running and pray. I will learn that man does not live on bread (and Nutella and coffee) alone. I cannot cleanse on my own, but with God's help, I can.
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