Tonight’s word:
I legit think God has a sense of humor.
I was going to write on something COMPLETELY different (or I was trying to, at least), but I kept coming back to this. It’s hard. I didn’t want to write this post. But I’ve been sitting on my laurels with this for quite some time, and God is finally pushing it out of me, one blog post at a time. (I’m actually working procrastinating on an in-depth post on this topic. Ugh. Why, Jesus?!?). Anyway, here ya go. *deep breaths*
I am a comfort-seeker. I like safe, I like secure, I like control. When I can’t be a fixer or a helper, I become a numb-er: numbing myself from whatever I can’t fix until it’s not a problem anymore.
My biggest source of comfort isn’t scripture or worship music or anything Jesus-y.
It’s food.
I’ve been a food addict (my personal opinion, I’ve never been officially diagnosed) since childhood. I’m also an emotional (cry-baby according to my family) person, and when my emotions overwhelm me? I eat.
I would sneak food from the kitchen when I was upset with my grandmother, or eat leftovers from dinner off the stove.
At 25, I tiptoe into the kitchen still for late-night snacks, for fear of waking my mom up.
I celebrate victories with cake or ice cream or my favorite meal.
I calm my anxious nerves through baking.
I relieve stress by cooking.
I eat snacks when I’m bored.
I numb myself with candy and sweets.
I’m an emotional eater, bored eater, anxious eater.
Food is my greatest comforter. When I’m eating something I love, I feel safe and peaceful.
This is not how food is supposed to work, I’ve learned.
I comfort myself with food, and have done so for at least 20 of my 25 years.
Real talk: currently eating butter bread, because it sounded good and I have felt crappy all day.
I don’t run to Jesus for comfort. I run to food.
And I don’t know how to run elsewhere for it. Because Jesus doesn’t make me feel full and secure quite like cake.
–END–
–curls up in corner because vulnerability is hard–
ah dearie… I TOTALLY Get it. Totally. I love food to… but over my 50 years I’ve learned something else… I love my family and I love God more. AND therein for me lay the answer.
Do I want to eat? OR.. do I want to see my lad grow up with a healthy mom?
Do I want to eat? OR.. do I want to tell God that food is ultimately more important than his son dying for me?
Choices are hard. It’s means being deliberate and really thinking it through before I make choices I should. And it’s ever so hard some days. Ever so hard.
And I’m telling you sister mine…. I FAIL like all the time. ALL THE TIME. BUT slowly, Slowly.. I am seeing a better path and a brighter future.
And Hope (and will pray) that in time you do to.
Wow, Jordan, what an honest, transparent, and ultimately triumphant post. The courage to look within yourself like that is simply awesome. I certainly don’t have it.
I applaud you!
Thank you for your vulnerability! I’m right there with you. It took me a long time to realize food isn’t what it is going to truly give me comfort. Have you read Full by Asheritah? She covers this very topic. I’m in the 54 spot this week.
I actually have it, but haven’t read it yet! once i unpack all my books I plan on reading it. Thanks friend <3
Dear Jordan – I get it. I do. I’m also an emotional eater, but more than that, I’m a mindless eater. Just grazing when I’m not really hungry, seeking to meet at need that only time with God will soothe. You know what, though? I’ve found a measure of victory in being honest, as you have been honest here, and getting myself plugged into an accountability group full of other honest women. May you find something that works for you and may you come to know the Lord in a way that makes cake seem tasteless. Hugs.
I love your vulnerability! It comforts people! We all have our addictions, whether it is food or tv (mine is British mysteries). You are not alone. It means you are human and Jesus wants to love you right there girl. He is our deliverer. And 5 minutes of transparency is better than hours of anything else. “97 fmf