Gluttony, Christmas, and Great Expectations

I weigh 137 pounds. At least I did for the last 20 years. I was the skinny kid who grew up to be the skinny adult. I was gifted with the ability to eat as much as I wanted and never put on weight. 

"Just wait until your 30's," older men warned. "Then it will all change."

They were right. At about 35 my stomach grew smaller. Suddenly I could only eat half as much as before. But I stayed at 137 pounds.

Last Christmas I changed again. I ate the normal Christmas feasts - two big helpings, wait a couple of hours for the food to settle, then go back for pie. Christmas, Boxing Day, and New Years. For the first time I didn't feel good after it. And, suddenly, I weighed 147 pounds. For the first time I would have to watch how much I ate.

My wife went on a weight loss program 10 years ago. I remember her difficulty. "I'm hungry," she would lament when she finished dinner. Or lunch. Or right before she went to bed. She lost 30 pounds, but she did it by always being unfull. I didn't have to lose 30 pounds (only 5). But I did have to face the new reality of not eating as much as I could every meal.

Gluttony, when I was younger, was always associated with holiday meals. I would eat my fill - and then some. Then I would complain about being too full, and my mom would lecture me. "Gluttony is a sin," she would say.

Gluttony = Eating until you're stuffed.
Christmas dinners. All you can eat buffets. Chicken wing eating contests.

Now in my middle age I think I have to re-define it. Gluttony isn't eating more than is comfortable, but eating until I am comfortable. Because if I eat until I say "I'm full," and then stop, that's too much. I'll be back at 147 pounds in a week.  I have to stop eating when I say "I could eat a little bit more."

That's right. I need to stop eating when I'm still a little bit hungry. Or it's too much.

It's a sobering shift for me. "Enough" now means "still a little bit unsatisfied."

It's difficult for someone with a poor sense of discipline and boundaries. And I think there's a lesson there that goes far past what's on the table.

Life Today
Our lives today are characterized by wanting to be full. Full of food. Pleasure. Accomplishments. Shopping. The perfect vacation. There's a gnawing sense that we're always not quite full, not really satisfied. And the myth says that if you have a little bit more, then you will be happy. The key to being happy is being filled. In contrast though, I wonder if the key to being happy is being content with being a little bit empty.

This is the world that says you can have it all. Get an education, a good job, nice toys, nicer toys, go on a vacation, and the perfect family. Have it all, and be happy. Except there are two problems. You can't actually have it all; there never is enough and it's never perfect. And second, we're still not happy. We're stressed, depressed, and perplexed. But if the purpose of life is to be full, we keep indulging in more, or exchange what isn't making us happy for something newer and better .. but doesn't deliver either.  And when you all you sought but are still empty, what then?

The love affair with Facebook and Instagram compounds it. What do you do before eating a nice meal? Take a picture and post it. Vacations. New car. Parties with friends. "Look at me and all the fun I'm having!" The photo of the moment becomes the illusion of the norm. All your friends are living in happiness, what's wrong with you? Go do something equally fun, and post it. Maybe if you get enough likes then you will be happy too. The virtual Jones are worse than the real ones.

We're left feeling a little bit empty, and feeling that we would be better if we had just a little bit more.

Now, back to my eating problem.
Its absurd to think that eating more can be a solution. Eating more means getting bigger. Pounds of fat. Unhealthy. It's obvious.

It's obvious, but its what most people do: eat more than they should. Their solution to feeling a little empty is eat more. But it doesn't help - it makes things worse.

The solution has to be something else: a new mindset. Embracing being hungry once in a while as a solution, not the problem.  It's ok to be a little bit empty. In fact, its good for me.

What does this mean?
Maybe this means something.
Maybe the solution to our insatiable desire to be filled is to embrace our sense of lack, not try to fill it.

Let's face it: we will never have enough. 

So stop pretending that more is the answer. Embrace less. Call it emptiness, call it deprivation, call it suffering if you want. But accept less. Embrace it. Let less be your joy.

Grace is Enough/Bragging about Weakness

One of my biggest "Aha!" moments happened in grade 8.  
It was an epiphany, the realization of something I didn't understand before, something that forever changed the way I saw myself.

Boys in junior high like to test their strength against each other.  Everyone wants to prove how strong they are, and that they're stronger than the next boy.
They test this in the most primitive, rudimentary, and manly way possible:
They arm wrestle.


It's a simple test of strength:

• Whoever wins is stronger.  
• Whoever loses is humiliated.

Winning is followed by bragging and bravado.
Losing is followed by looking for someone else to wrestle, in hopes of beating them and saving face.

I played the game like everyone else.  I clearly wasn't the strongest kid in grade 8 - that title belonged to a kid named Adam.  I wasn't even close. But I arm wrestled along with everybody else, trying to establish myself among the alpha males.

And then it dawned on me.
It wasn't quite an "Aha!" moment.  It was more like an "Ohhh..." moment.

Whenever someone lost a match, and they wanted to wrestle someone else to regain face, they challenged me.

• I was the boy everyone else knew they could beat.
• I was the class weakling.

"Ohhh... I don't think this is a good thing."

I had athletic ability.  I had academics.  I had some other things going for me.
But from then on I knew it:  I was the weak kid.  That was the worst thing imaginable for a grade 8 boy.

I thought of ordering this kit that they advertised in comic books.



Or, I was going to have to accept myself for what I was.


The Apostle Paul was awesome.  He was driven, brave, tough, a leader, and confident.  He was the 'A' in "Alpha Male."
But he also had weakness.

He hated it.  It drove him crazy.  He prayed again and again, "God, take this away! Fix this problem! I can't stand it any more!"

And God said, "No."
"My grace is all that you need.  My power works best in your weakness."

That phrase changed everything about Paul, how he saw himself, and how he saw God.
And he was thankful for it.

"Now I am glad to boast about my weakness..."
What?  So different.  No one boasts about their weaknesses.
Unless they learned to look at everything differently.