Calamity, Meet Jane

You can go to church on Sunday and hear about drunkenness, sexual immorality, foul language, greed, addiction—all kinds of sin.

But there’s one I don’t hear talked about nearly as much.

Gluttony.

And babycakes, I wish I were writing this from the other side of it.

I’m not.

I’m writing from smack-dab in the middle of the struggle.

Food is a sore subject for me. I love food, but if I’m being truthful, sometimes that love has looked a whole lot more like dependence.

Comfort. Reward. Entertainment. Something to reach for when I’m stressed, bored, overwhelmed—or sometimes just because it’s Tuesday.

And it points straight back to something God has already been working on in me:

Discipline.

Then I Read This…

Philippians 3:19 says:

“Their god is their belly…”

Well.

Ouch.

When I think of idols, my brain goes to the obvious stuff—money, drugs, alcohol, sex, success.

I don’t immediately think about what I’m having for dinner.

Food is good. Food is necessary. Food is a gift from God.

But a gift from God was never meant to take the place of God.

So I had to ask myself:

Do I enjoy food—or does food sometimes master me?

Paul says in 1 Corinthians 6:12:

“I will not be dominated by anything.”

Now, that passage isn’t specifically about gluttony. The immediate context involves sexual immorality, and I’m not about to twist Scripture around to make my point.

But that principle got ahold of me.

I will not be mastered by anything.

And suddenly I had some uncomfortable questions to answer.

Do I think about food constantly?

Do I reach for it when I’m stressed, lonely, bored or overwhelmed?

Do I eat when I’m not actually hungry?

Do I hide what I’m eating?

That last one hurts.

Yep. I’ve Hidden Cake.

I know what it’s like to stand near the sliding door eating cake straight from the pan while listening to make sure I have enough time to put everything away before my husband realizes what I’m doing.

There.

I said it.

And no, eating cake isn’t inherently sinful.

The cake ain’t the problem.

The question for me is:

Why am I hiding?

Why do I feel like I need this?

What am I asking food to do for me right now?

Because once I’m sneaking around with a fork like I’m conducting a covert operation with Betty Crocker, I reckon there’s something underneath the cake worth examining.

I come from a family familiar with addiction, and I recognize some of those patterns.

I know hiding.

I know secrecy.

I know the feeling of I want this even though I know I shouldn’t.

And maybe freedom starts when we quit hiding and bring the thing into the light before God.

Apparently Self-Control Applies in the Kitchen Too

Galatians 5:22–23 lists the fruit of the Spirit, and tucked right in there is:

Self-control.

We’ll talk about self-control with alcohol.

Sex.

Pornography.

Drugs.

Our tempers.

Our mouths.

But how often do we bring our relationship with food before God?

Apparently I was prepared to hand Jesus my worries, my family, my future and my finances…

but I was keeping the Little Debbie in my other hand.

😂

And I’m joking.

But I’m also really not.

Proverbs 23:20–21 specifically warns against gluttony. And Proverbs 25:16 gives perhaps the simplest eating advice ever:

“If you have found honey, eat only enough for you…”

Notice it doesn’t say honey is evil.

Eat the honey!

Just don’t let the honey run the show.

Food isn’t the enemy.

Lack of self-control is what I’m examining.

This Isn’t About Being Skinny

I really want to make this clear.

You cannot look at someone’s body and diagnose their spiritual life.

Being thin doesn’t prove self-control, and being overweight doesn’t prove gluttony.

Heck, even the pursuit of thinness can become an idol.

Food can become an idol.

Fitness can become an idol.

Appearance can become an idol.

Restriction can become an idol.

So I’m trying to stop asking only:

“What do I weigh?”

And start asking:

“What rules me?”

That’s a much harder question.

First Corinthians 6:19–20 reminds believers that our bodies belong to God and tells us to glorify God with them. Again, Paul’s context there isn’t weight loss, and I’m not turning it into Jesus wants you skinny.

But it does remind me:

My body belongs to Him, too.

I want the energy to serve.

I want to be physically capable of doing what God calls me to do.

I want to practice discipline when my flesh says, Girl, absolutely not.

And I don’t want something God created as a gift becoming something that controls me.

So I’m Taking Inventory

I’m not starting a Christian diet plan.

I’m not telling you what to eat.

And Lord knows I’m not standing here pretending I’ve conquered this.

I’m asking myself some questions:

Am I actually hungry?

Am I looking for comfort?

What emotions send me toward food?

What am I hiding?

What am I asking food to give me that I should be bringing to God?

And the big one:

Am I enjoying this gift—or am I being mastered by it?

I don’t have all the answers yet.

I’m still learning discipline.

I’m still figuring out what surrender looks like here.

But maybe that’s exactly why I’m talking about it.

Because gluttony doesn’t always announce itself.

Sometimes it looks completely normal.

Sometimes everybody around us is doing it.

Sometimes nobody knows we’re struggling.

And sometimes the quietest sins are the ones we’ve gotten comfortable living with.

Food is good.

God made it.

Enjoy it. Celebrate with it. Gather around a table with people you love and thank God for every dang bite.

But food makes a terrible god.

It can nourish me.

It can delight me.

It can bring people together.

But it cannot be my master.

That place belongs to Christ.

— Jane

Grace for the mess. Grit for the rest.