16

Crash Diet at Freeway Speeds

I’VE BEEN OFF MY DIET FOR WEEKS.

This morning my breakfast consisted of cookies and potato chips. The good news is the chips were of the low-fat variety. The bad news is that I ate half a bag.

Wait. It gets worse.

Then, a couple hours ago I found myself in the drive-through lane at McDonald’s. But it TOTALLY wasn’t my fault. After forgetting to pack a lunch for my teenager, I promised to deliver a sandwich to her school office. When I realized I didn’t have any bread in the house, I found myself forced to drive through McDonald’s and purchase a cheeseburger and fries for her. And, as you can well imagine, the only way to keep myself from eating her french fries while I drove was to buy a second burger and fries of my very own.

The next thing I know I’m driving down the highway and smelling french fries and salivating at the thought of chasing down my breakfast of cookies and chips with a nice, greasy burger when suddenly I think to myself:

LINAMEN, GET A GRIP!

Sure, I started a diet on January 1 just like you did. But here I am, already two weeks strong into a hearty binge.

Say it ain’t so.

You know, starting a diet is one thing. Starting it for the eighty-seventh time gets a little tedious.

Anyway, I was thinking about all this while driving down the freeway when suddenly I got the strong urge to take charge of my life and climb back on the rabbit food wagon, forsaking greasy pleasures for celery and salads. I almost chucked my cheeseburger out the window until I realized that the only thing worse than starting a diet for the eighty-seventh time would be starting a diet for the eighty-seventh time AND having to pay a $200 littering fine to boot.

A few minutes later I walked into Kaitlyn’s school office carrying two sacks. I dropped one sack on Mrs. Crumpton’s desk and waved the other. “Does anyone want a burger and fries?”

Mrs. Stracener said, “Did they give you an extra one?”

“Nope. It’s mine.” And then I blurted the whole ugly story, about the chips and the cookies and the two-week binge and realizing I needed to GET A GRIP and feeling desperate and nearly getting fined for littering—

About that time Mrs. Crumpton grabbed my hands, looked solidly into my eyes, and said reassuringly, “We can help you, dear.”

“Thank you!” I gushed. “Just don’t let me eat the fries . . . whatever you do, DON’T LET ME EAT THE FRIES!”

So now I’m back on my diet, and there are two women in Texas who think what I really should be on is medication.

I hate starting over. It doesn’t matter if the thing I’m starting over is a diet or a page of prose that I should have had saved when my dog tripped over the electrical cord to my computer.

The other thing I hate to do is start over when I stumble in my walk with Jesus. Somehow, I’d love to deal with a sin or doubt or fear or struggle once and never have to deal with it again. I’d love to announce—when the topic of gossip or lust or envy comes up—“Been there, done that!”

I’d love to say, “Anger? Oh sure. I got angry back in 1974, but the Lord delivered me, and I’ve been gracious ever since.”

“Depression? Did that in ’87. Never struggled since.”

“Lack of faith? Lord and I put that one to bed back in ’93.”

The good news is that even when I’m feeling defeated from having to muster a brand-new attack on a not-so-new enemy, there’s Someone standing by with fresh resources to see me through. Indeed, the Bible promises us that God’s mercies and compassion never fail. In fact, they are new every morning, and his faithfulness is great!

Even when I’m weak, he is strong.

Which is reassuring. Especially since I only ate half the bag of chips this morning. I think the other half is still waiting for me in the kitchen.