Sugar addiction has been like having a pet cougar. Soft, fluffy and just waiting to be stroked. One a bad day this cougar purrs and behaves like a kitten luring me in, then when I am contented and feeling drowsy, it attacks. Boy does that hurt. Yet, I keep coming back for that sleepy, dreamy feeling I get from petting the cougar. There is no way out of this particular mess, except by the grace of God.
I have been contemplating the long-term effects of living with an addict. I am sure that my mother didn’t intend for her life to turn out like it did.
My life has taken a sudden turn for the worse because I have Primary Hypertension. Apparently my mother had Primary Hypertension too, amongst other things. This has affected me in ways that transcend the “I don’t feel so good” physicality of my predicament. Contemplating the train wreck of Primary Hypertension in my life has impacted me emotionally and spiritually and brought me to thinking about what has lead to this. Not only did I inherit hypertension from my mother, I inherited addictive tendencies. I am sure that the two train wrecks are on the same set of train tracks. It is easy to tell myself that I am not as bad her, at least it isn’t painkillers that I am addicted to. Just like sin is sin (at least I am not a murderer!), an addiction is an addiction. The only difference between her and I is what we used to deal with pain. I struggle everyday with sugar. Every moment that I spend eating involves analyses of what is going into my mouth and why. This process often leaves me wracked with guilt, or mired in self-pity, or self-loathing. I often wonder, did my mother ever take a moment to evaluate herself before she popped another pill? I wouldn’t know because after I left home, I didn’t talk to her much. But, I mean, come on. It must have occurred to her on some level that she was destroying her life because of her addiction. Since she died from an overdose 5 years ago, I guess I’ll never know.
But, enough about my mother. She can’t be redeemed from her sin, but I can.
That’s right, there is a way out of this mess. God has made a habit of taking my ashes from me and giving me a crown of beauty. I am talking about Isaiah 61:3. The literal translation of this verse means that God will take from me the ashes of mourning, also figuratively “worthlessness”, that I have on my head and will replace them with a crown, or head-dress/ornament/turban. How cool is that? And only God can do that. There is no one else on this planet that has that kind of power or authority over sin and death. I could accept the addiction and the hypertension as my inheritance or I can reject them and accept God’s plan for me. So what does this plan look like?
I’ll let you know how that works itself out.