When A Voice Calls From The Pantry

Another grey day in central Florida. We don’t have that many, so when you string a few together, it becomes easy to air gripes about the rotten weather and how it puts a damper on my attitude.

Coming home from work, I was really tired. I’d talked to a lot of people and engaged in several serious conversations. I felt emotionally depleted. All I could think of was resting a bit before I had to make dinner.unnamed-1

That and eating something that really wasn’t good for me. Food therapy.

I could have had an apple. Gotten a better shot at those nine fruits and vegetables for the day. (I’d have to become a grazing cow to get all that roughage down me in 24 hours.) I could have had a glass of almond milk and tanked up on some calcium.

No. I ate little orangey pretzel pieces covered in some spice that made them really hot. And ridiculously addicting.

unnamedThere wasn’t an ounce of health in them. Anything that turns your fingers that color and then requires large quantities of soap to remove it can’t be good for me. The one saving grace was they had no sugar in them.

So I ate a handful of chocolate chips. Just to balance out my edible splurge.

Not too proud of any of it. Mostly because I’m not feeling really great right now. unnamed

And I certainly don’t want to make dinner.

The funny thing is that this junk shouldn’t even be in the house. I know better. I’ve got very little discipline when it comes to choosing some things well.  When I’m tired and spent, I want junk food. It’s that simple.

I don’t intentionally go out of my way to sabotage my eating. I know when I eat healthy, clean foods, I feel better.

So how did that really huge bag of chocolate chips get in my grocery cart? I was going to make cookies for the grandkids. And then the bag was opened. And my great intentions went down my throat with the chocolate chips.

This is my life–the good I want to do I don’t do. The bad I don’t want to do, well, it comes easily.

God knows this broken part of me.  The part of me that I can’t fix.

“I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it.  Instead, I do what I hate….I want to do what is right, but I can’t. I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway.”   Romans 7:15, 18b-19

I’m a broken person living in a broken world. My nature drives me to do things that are hurtful to myself and others. I’m not saying I’m all bad–I’ve done some really good things. But the bad, the wrong, the hurtful comes so much easier.

God loves me enough to save me from that which I can’t save myself.

And He doesn’t condemn me for failing. Yet again.

That’s better than handful of orange pretzel pieces any day.

8 responses to “When A Voice Calls From The Pantry”

  1. Have you been spying on me? 🙂 This writing of yours is just hitting a little to close to home pantry, if you know what I mean! I am so proud of you for putting the vulnerable you out there for people to know and love. And I can’t wait to chat a bit in person… I’ll send you an email today!


    1. You and I think a lot alike, my friend. Thanks for your continued encouragement. Thanks for being a sweet support in this blogging adventure.


  2. I had one of those kinds of days yesterday too! Mine was sugar cookies…and I was so deliberate to ask Roger to go out and get them for me!


    1. The amazing like-mindedness of women needing comfort food! It’s sweet that Roger would be your accomplice!


  3. Oh Dayle, you find spiritual lessons in the strangest places! You mean God wants to teach me even when I’m indulging my snack tooth!? (Yesterday, for me, it was tortilla chips and guacamole!)

    The great thing is, God DOES want to teach us and reach us in these everyday places. His grace is big enough, and interested enough for that. What a Savior… I’m so glad we serve a God that knows us and loves us anyway.

    Thank you for pointing my eyes heavenward, yet again.


    1. How grateful I am that He does want to reach us anywhere–even in the midst of an eating frenzy! Thanks for your kind words, Jules. Come home!


  4. A woman after my own weaknesses.


    1. You’ve got to appreciate how we’re all geared to find comfort in something full of sugar, fat, flavor–more likely all three. Thanks for your encouraging comment-I love like-minded women who can embrace my stuff with humor. And hope.


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