Did you know you should not wear the same bra two days in a row?
How do you find a pair of jeans that fit?
What do B O D and X have to do with fashion?
Shari Braendel’s latest book, GOOD GIRLS don’t have to DRESS BAD, will answer these fashion questions and many more.
Shari addresses fashion issues from head to toe and everywhere in between. She uses well-placed humor to drive home the point that “good girls don’t have to dress bad” to be noticed. She declares that women should be proud of the bodies God created for them. Shari also believes, and teaches, that we should dress God’s creation appropriately; fashion and modesty can be partners.
Shari’s book is a take-with-you-shopping resource. The book mirrors her fashion conferences; it’s basically the conference material in written format.
I had an opportunity to attend her workshop, “What to Wear,” at the She Speaks Conference in North Carolina (sponsored by Proverbs 31 Ministries). The information gleaned from the session resonates in my head when I shop. Shari personally consulted with me after the conference, and I purchased the suggested swatch packet appropriate for my coloring. When I shop, I refer to the swatches and my shopping time is more efficient.
For updated information about Shari and conference schedules go to www.ShariBraendel.com.
You can also read other reviews at www.amazon.com and www.blogtourspot.com
I recommend Shari’s book and conferences without hesitation.
Happy shopping!
The publisher provided a review copy of the book.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Sugar Free in My Box
Sugar Free
January 13, 2010, I made a vow. It wasn’t a New Year’s Resolution to begin a diet or to read my Bible every day for the next year. I made those resolutions before and failed miserably.
This one was different; it was about redemption.
My thirty-one year old son picked up a white chip, the symbol of surrender to recovery. I promised not to eat sugar until he achieves his first drug-free year. The pledge honors him as he lives without drugs and helps me understand an addict’s hard, daily choices.
I chose to abstain from sugar for several reasons. I like sugar. It wouldn’t mean much to give up liver and onions. In addition, sugar’s availability makes it harder to resist the temptation. The enticement should fit the test.
The sugar-free resolution challenges me daily. I can choose sugar or I can “just say no.” It seems easy —but it isn’t.
Valentine’s Day came shortly after I made my decision. Chocolate defines this special day. I remained firm and didn’t have any. My resolve left me a little cranky, but sugar free.
My daughters bought a sinful cheesecake for my birthday dessert. I watched as they ate my birthday cheesecake. They showed surprise when I declined because, after all, it was my birthday. I wondered why they bought such a tempting dessert in light of my decision. Special occasions provide reasons to set aside resolve—right?
After working in my garage one afternoon, I felt hot and tired. Home alone, I went into the kitchen to get a drink. A solitary can of soda stood chilling in the refrigerator.
I wanted that soda.
I deserved that soda. No one would know. After all, it was just one soda. I fought with myself for about an hour, justifying all the reasons to drink it. In the end, I drank a glass of water. Soda was
not the issue. The issue was my commitment.
Addicts choose every day to stay sober or to use. They wake up knowing that a new battle just began. “Will I use today? Will I be strong? It’s only one drink, one pill. I’ll stop after watching one video. I can look through one more magazine; my secret is safe. It’ll be okay this time. I can handle it.”
The internal dialogue repeats itself again and again and rips at the gut. My son’s words replay in my head, “I was sober yesterday. If I do today what I did yesterday, I will be sober today. If I do tomorrow what I did today, I will be sober tomorrow.” Consider the addict’s mantra: “One day at a time.”
My sugar struggle pales in comparison to his war with drugs. I will never feel the intensity of the desires wreaking havoc in his mind and body. I might never comprehend the assault of recurring reminders of poor choices. I intentionally seek to understand the inner struggle. I want to feel the tension, the pull, and the craving that drives him to do what he doesn’t want to do. Holy Spirit, please strengthen him when he is weak.
I’ve learned that the farther away I am from my original commitment, the harder it is to consider it. I planted the flag in the sand six months ago, but some days my resolve seems shaky. For an addict, a Twelve Step meeting reminds them of the struggle that brought them to their knees; there is encouragement in remembrance.
I must confess: I slipped up. The taste testing appointment for my daughter’s wedding cake brought a sweet failing. Individual trays of mini-cakes sat before my daughter and me. Dobs of different icings were added to the tray. She had various fillings for our tongues to tango with. The sights and smells from the tray tantalized me for thirty minutes. I succumbed. Sounds like accessibility. Sounds like trouble. A phone call was in order.
“Josh, I have some bad news,” I said.
“What, Mom?” he asked.
“I ate two little cakes tonight with the cake designer. Now I will have to pick up a white chip and start over.”
He chuckled and said, “I’m proud of you Mom, at least you’re trying to understand.”
I know that avoiding sugar won’t change my son into an overnight drug-free miracle. But, he will see his mother cared enough to try and understand his cravings and choices. He will know his mother loved enough to walk a day--or a year—in his shoes. That bit of encouragement and concern may help him realize there is someone fighting for his life almost as much as he is.
We recently discussed his recovery, and I expressed impatience with his progress. He turned to
me and said, “Time takes time, Mom.”
And it does. The pledge is made; it starts as a moment in time, watered over many days, months, and years; often with a mother’s tears, but it evolves into a miracle for all to see.
The next time you see a sugary temptation, think of my son and me. Then think of the addict in your life. What can you do to show your support and encouragement? How will you demonstrate God’s grace and mercy to them “one day at a time?”
Can you say no to your craving?
January 13, 2010, I made a vow. It wasn’t a New Year’s Resolution to begin a diet or to read my Bible every day for the next year. I made those resolutions before and failed miserably.
This one was different; it was about redemption.
My thirty-one year old son picked up a white chip, the symbol of surrender to recovery. I promised not to eat sugar until he achieves his first drug-free year. The pledge honors him as he lives without drugs and helps me understand an addict’s hard, daily choices.
I chose to abstain from sugar for several reasons. I like sugar. It wouldn’t mean much to give up liver and onions. In addition, sugar’s availability makes it harder to resist the temptation. The enticement should fit the test.
The sugar-free resolution challenges me daily. I can choose sugar or I can “just say no.” It seems easy —but it isn’t.
Valentine’s Day came shortly after I made my decision. Chocolate defines this special day. I remained firm and didn’t have any. My resolve left me a little cranky, but sugar free.
My daughters bought a sinful cheesecake for my birthday dessert. I watched as they ate my birthday cheesecake. They showed surprise when I declined because, after all, it was my birthday. I wondered why they bought such a tempting dessert in light of my decision. Special occasions provide reasons to set aside resolve—right?
After working in my garage one afternoon, I felt hot and tired. Home alone, I went into the kitchen to get a drink. A solitary can of soda stood chilling in the refrigerator.
I wanted that soda.
I deserved that soda. No one would know. After all, it was just one soda. I fought with myself for about an hour, justifying all the reasons to drink it. In the end, I drank a glass of water. Soda was
not the issue. The issue was my commitment.
Addicts choose every day to stay sober or to use. They wake up knowing that a new battle just began. “Will I use today? Will I be strong? It’s only one drink, one pill. I’ll stop after watching one video. I can look through one more magazine; my secret is safe. It’ll be okay this time. I can handle it.”
The internal dialogue repeats itself again and again and rips at the gut. My son’s words replay in my head, “I was sober yesterday. If I do today what I did yesterday, I will be sober today. If I do tomorrow what I did today, I will be sober tomorrow.” Consider the addict’s mantra: “One day at a time.”
My sugar struggle pales in comparison to his war with drugs. I will never feel the intensity of the desires wreaking havoc in his mind and body. I might never comprehend the assault of recurring reminders of poor choices. I intentionally seek to understand the inner struggle. I want to feel the tension, the pull, and the craving that drives him to do what he doesn’t want to do. Holy Spirit, please strengthen him when he is weak.
I’ve learned that the farther away I am from my original commitment, the harder it is to consider it. I planted the flag in the sand six months ago, but some days my resolve seems shaky. For an addict, a Twelve Step meeting reminds them of the struggle that brought them to their knees; there is encouragement in remembrance.
I must confess: I slipped up. The taste testing appointment for my daughter’s wedding cake brought a sweet failing. Individual trays of mini-cakes sat before my daughter and me. Dobs of different icings were added to the tray. She had various fillings for our tongues to tango with. The sights and smells from the tray tantalized me for thirty minutes. I succumbed. Sounds like accessibility. Sounds like trouble. A phone call was in order.
“Josh, I have some bad news,” I said.
“What, Mom?” he asked.
“I ate two little cakes tonight with the cake designer. Now I will have to pick up a white chip and start over.”
He chuckled and said, “I’m proud of you Mom, at least you’re trying to understand.”
I know that avoiding sugar won’t change my son into an overnight drug-free miracle. But, he will see his mother cared enough to try and understand his cravings and choices. He will know his mother loved enough to walk a day--or a year—in his shoes. That bit of encouragement and concern may help him realize there is someone fighting for his life almost as much as he is.
We recently discussed his recovery, and I expressed impatience with his progress. He turned to
me and said, “Time takes time, Mom.”
And it does. The pledge is made; it starts as a moment in time, watered over many days, months, and years; often with a mother’s tears, but it evolves into a miracle for all to see.
The next time you see a sugary temptation, think of my son and me. Then think of the addict in your life. What can you do to show your support and encouragement? How will you demonstrate God’s grace and mercy to them “one day at a time?”
Can you say no to your craving?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
O Me of Little Faith in My Box
For all you Doubting Thomases, have I got a book for you: O Me of Little Faith by Jason Boyett.
Boyett candidly exposes his long-held doubts about God and faith. The opening analogy comes from his seventh-grade basketball team experience. The boys lifted weights and Boyett proved to the team his weakling status: his only lifted his own body weight. He concluded he was a weakling.
The years proved something else: he is a spiritual weakling as well. Boyett writes, "...I wonder if that weakness transferred from the outside to the inside. Some days when it comes to faith, I can't bench press much more than the bar. I'm spiritually scrawny."
The book is chock full of humor and personal stories. The reader quickly finds common ground with Boyett as he shares his heart about a weak faith. He also provides insights into how he deals with the weakness in his faith walk: he keeps praying and believing...he walks in the light he has.
One of the most notable aspects of the book is the honesty with which Boyett shares his battle with doubt. People raised in a religious environment often don't, or won't, confess those moments of doubt but Boyett does, and he opens the door for others to make the same admission.
The book was provided free of charge from the publisher. Learn more about Jason Boyoett at www.jasonboyett.com.
Boyett candidly exposes his long-held doubts about God and faith. The opening analogy comes from his seventh-grade basketball team experience. The boys lifted weights and Boyett proved to the team his weakling status: his only lifted his own body weight. He concluded he was a weakling.
The years proved something else: he is a spiritual weakling as well. Boyett writes, "...I wonder if that weakness transferred from the outside to the inside. Some days when it comes to faith, I can't bench press much more than the bar. I'm spiritually scrawny."
The book is chock full of humor and personal stories. The reader quickly finds common ground with Boyett as he shares his heart about a weak faith. He also provides insights into how he deals with the weakness in his faith walk: he keeps praying and believing...he walks in the light he has.
One of the most notable aspects of the book is the honesty with which Boyett shares his battle with doubt. People raised in a religious environment often don't, or won't, confess those moments of doubt but Boyett does, and he opens the door for others to make the same admission.
The book was provided free of charge from the publisher. Learn more about Jason Boyoett at www.jasonboyett.com.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Life in Defiance in My Box
"You're as sick as your secrets" defines Mary DeMuth's final book of the Defiance Texas Trilogy, Life in Defiance.
Ouisse (Louise) Pepper, wife to Preacher Hap and mother to Jed and Sissy, buries childhood secrets and continues to hide secrets during her marriage. She cannot air the dirty laundry of domestic violence, alcoholism, and benign neglect of her children to the little town of Defiance. What would the congregation do with the truth of severe beatings, chokings, and humiliations dispensed by the hand of her husband? What would the tongue waggers do with the knowledge of her love affair with alcohol? She swallows her secrets and hides in the shadow of her preacher husband.
She holds another secret close to her chest: the identity of Daisy Emory's killer. The killer's identity unravels through cleverly contrived flashbacks and insertions into the story line. DeMuth dangles the killer's identity before her readers like a carcas in front of a hungry lion. The tantilizing disclosure of the killer's name fuels the reader's drive to reach the story's end.
DeMuth infuses the truth of God's grace and mercy as Emory Chase commits her life to Jesus. The same truth is played out for Ouisse but she is reticent to accept the offer. The seeds of redemption and faith grow slow but deep, just like the hollyhock seeds she secretly plants. Ouisse's neighbor Ethrea tells her, "A seed planted can't help but grow." The seeds of friendship eventually yield bumper crops, right along with the flowers.
Another component of the story is how one person influences another. Ouisse demeans herself page after page only to be reminded by Emory and Ethrea that she has worth. The irony of Emory's encouragement is she, too, felt worthless and of "no account" because of her past. Hixon came into her life and, through simple acts of kindness, pointed her to Christ. The ultimate sacrifice of Hixon's life portrayed Christ's love for her. Emory passed that love on to Ouisse; she "paid it forward."
The Defiance Texas Trilogy offers intrigue, crime, passion, and redeeming love. A great read and highly recommended.
I received a review copy of the book from the publisher.
Ouisse (Louise) Pepper, wife to Preacher Hap and mother to Jed and Sissy, buries childhood secrets and continues to hide secrets during her marriage. She cannot air the dirty laundry of domestic violence, alcoholism, and benign neglect of her children to the little town of Defiance. What would the congregation do with the truth of severe beatings, chokings, and humiliations dispensed by the hand of her husband? What would the tongue waggers do with the knowledge of her love affair with alcohol? She swallows her secrets and hides in the shadow of her preacher husband.
She holds another secret close to her chest: the identity of Daisy Emory's killer. The killer's identity unravels through cleverly contrived flashbacks and insertions into the story line. DeMuth dangles the killer's identity before her readers like a carcas in front of a hungry lion. The tantilizing disclosure of the killer's name fuels the reader's drive to reach the story's end.
DeMuth infuses the truth of God's grace and mercy as Emory Chase commits her life to Jesus. The same truth is played out for Ouisse but she is reticent to accept the offer. The seeds of redemption and faith grow slow but deep, just like the hollyhock seeds she secretly plants. Ouisse's neighbor Ethrea tells her, "A seed planted can't help but grow." The seeds of friendship eventually yield bumper crops, right along with the flowers.
Another component of the story is how one person influences another. Ouisse demeans herself page after page only to be reminded by Emory and Ethrea that she has worth. The irony of Emory's encouragement is she, too, felt worthless and of "no account" because of her past. Hixon came into her life and, through simple acts of kindness, pointed her to Christ. The ultimate sacrifice of Hixon's life portrayed Christ's love for her. Emory passed that love on to Ouisse; she "paid it forward."
The Defiance Texas Trilogy offers intrigue, crime, passion, and redeeming love. A great read and highly recommended.
I received a review copy of the book from the publisher.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Radical in My Box
Radical--such a harsh sounding word. The short "a" leaves an abrasive sound in my ears. The short form of the word, "rad," rhymes with "bad," my first reaction to the word "radical." To consider "radical" in the context of the church and Jesus seems wrong somehow, yet that is exactly what the book is about. It's a look at the Radical Jesus and the modern church.
David Platt's new book, Radical, Taking Back Your Faith From the American Dream, addresses the radical way in which "the church" has molded Christ's Church into a fellowship of convenience and comfort. Our churches look nothing like The Church Jesus talked about and died for. What happened in the last two thousand years to His Bride?
The comfortable nature of the church in the 21st century is diametrically opposed to the discomfort of the early church. Even in the 21st century, many believers throughout the world worship in extreme discomfort--except in America. These worshippers' very lives hang in the balance because of their radical faith.
Platt challenges the reader to think about their million-dollar church buildings, million-dollar car parking lots and weigh them against shabby, ill-equipped church buildings in other part of the world that don't have expensive cars lining the parking lot--their members don't have cars and many don't even own a bicycle. But, the lack of luxuries doesn't deter their commitment to serve the Radical Jesus.
The book is a challenge for Christians to consider living the radical life Jesus demonstrated on a daily basis. He told his disciples to leave their jobs, their families, even their dead, to follow Him and change the world. Could I do that? Could you?
He poses two questions in the first few pages of the book: "Was I going to believe Jesus?" and Was I going to follow Jesus?" The book explores Platt's quest to find answers to his questions; questions that should reverberate through all people of faith. The challenge comes from an honest look at Jesus' message and making it viable in our lives today.
David Platt's new book, Radical, Taking Back Your Faith From the American Dream, addresses the radical way in which "the church" has molded Christ's Church into a fellowship of convenience and comfort. Our churches look nothing like The Church Jesus talked about and died for. What happened in the last two thousand years to His Bride?
The comfortable nature of the church in the 21st century is diametrically opposed to the discomfort of the early church. Even in the 21st century, many believers throughout the world worship in extreme discomfort--except in America. These worshippers' very lives hang in the balance because of their radical faith.
Platt challenges the reader to think about their million-dollar church buildings, million-dollar car parking lots and weigh them against shabby, ill-equipped church buildings in other part of the world that don't have expensive cars lining the parking lot--their members don't have cars and many don't even own a bicycle. But, the lack of luxuries doesn't deter their commitment to serve the Radical Jesus.
The book is a challenge for Christians to consider living the radical life Jesus demonstrated on a daily basis. He told his disciples to leave their jobs, their families, even their dead, to follow Him and change the world. Could I do that? Could you?
He poses two questions in the first few pages of the book: "Was I going to believe Jesus?" and Was I going to follow Jesus?" The book explores Platt's quest to find answers to his questions; questions that should reverberate through all people of faith. The challenge comes from an honest look at Jesus' message and making it viable in our lives today.
According to Platt, most modern believers redefine the gospel of Christ to fit a comfortable, self-serving mold. We force Him to fit our way of thinking instead of the reverse. Have you ever said, "Well, Jesus didn't really mean....?" I have and by doing that, I've redefined Jesus to fit my way of thinking.
The book promises to challenge and probe the deep places of our hearts and souls; places we perhaps don't want to go or to spotlight. But, Jesus never said the way would be easy. He did say He would be with us.
Will you take the "Radical" challenge?
A free download is available through www.WaterBrookMultnomah.com/RadicalQuestion .
Monday, April 5, 2010
Coconut Cake in My Box
Cakes at our house usually come from a local grocery store well known for delicious cakes. They are always good, always beautifully decorated, and always perfect. Why try to outdo a good thing, right? "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."
I decided to bake a homemade coconut cake for Easter dessert this year. I would impress the family with my cake-baking prowess. The cake was three layers and stood about eight inches high. The homemade cream cheese and cool whip icing looked scrumptious. I sprinkled coconut over the top and sides. The finished product: a thing of beauty--except for a few minor flaws, it leaned a little bit and had a slight lump on the top. But, it was a labor of love, and I knew the family would appreciate it. I hoped they wouldn't notice.
I took a picture of the cake on my phone and fowarded it to my children. Their responses made my heart swell with pride. "Wow, Mom, that's beautiful," one daughter responded. My son's comment, was "Cool." I strutted like a proud peacock.
After church the children and grandchildren gathered at our house for Easter lunch. My oldest grandson saw the cake sitting on the counter and asked, "Mimi, did you make that cake yourself?"
"Yes, I did, Kodster," I proudly replied.
"I thought so. It's kind of crooked. My mom showed me the picture last night, and I saw it leaning a little bit."
My strutting feathers folded.
I thought to myself that I should have done the usual thing and bought the cake from the grocery store deli; then it would be perfect, someone else's creativity would receive praise. I smiled and gave a sweet, grandmotherly reply, "That's okay, honey, it will still taste okay."
Then I thought, I'm glad I baked the cake myself. It showed my family how special they are to me. Not every cake has to be perfect to be good.
I am not much of a baker so my coconut cake was a labor of love, unlike the grocery store cake. Someone there bakes and decorates cakes for a living. The baker doesn't picture the faces of their family as the layers are iced and decorated. For them, it's just a job. For me, it was a way of expressing love for my family.
My cake mirrors us as humans. We have some lumps and bumps. Sometimes we even lean a little bit. But, we are God's workmanship and He is proud of us. Thankfully God doesn't stop using us because we have some shortcomings. Sure, we limp along in our faith walk on occasion, but He uses our imperfections to bring glory to His kingdom.
"For we are God's workmanship (masterpiece), created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Eph 2:10.
I decided to bake a homemade coconut cake for Easter dessert this year. I would impress the family with my cake-baking prowess. The cake was three layers and stood about eight inches high. The homemade cream cheese and cool whip icing looked scrumptious. I sprinkled coconut over the top and sides. The finished product: a thing of beauty--except for a few minor flaws, it leaned a little bit and had a slight lump on the top. But, it was a labor of love, and I knew the family would appreciate it. I hoped they wouldn't notice.
I took a picture of the cake on my phone and fowarded it to my children. Their responses made my heart swell with pride. "Wow, Mom, that's beautiful," one daughter responded. My son's comment, was "Cool." I strutted like a proud peacock.
After church the children and grandchildren gathered at our house for Easter lunch. My oldest grandson saw the cake sitting on the counter and asked, "Mimi, did you make that cake yourself?"
"Yes, I did, Kodster," I proudly replied.
"I thought so. It's kind of crooked. My mom showed me the picture last night, and I saw it leaning a little bit."
My strutting feathers folded.
I thought to myself that I should have done the usual thing and bought the cake from the grocery store deli; then it would be perfect, someone else's creativity would receive praise. I smiled and gave a sweet, grandmotherly reply, "That's okay, honey, it will still taste okay."
Then I thought, I'm glad I baked the cake myself. It showed my family how special they are to me. Not every cake has to be perfect to be good.
I am not much of a baker so my coconut cake was a labor of love, unlike the grocery store cake. Someone there bakes and decorates cakes for a living. The baker doesn't picture the faces of their family as the layers are iced and decorated. For them, it's just a job. For me, it was a way of expressing love for my family.
My cake mirrors us as humans. We have some lumps and bumps. Sometimes we even lean a little bit. But, we are God's workmanship and He is proud of us. Thankfully God doesn't stop using us because we have some shortcomings. Sure, we limp along in our faith walk on occasion, but He uses our imperfections to bring glory to His kingdom.
"For we are God's workmanship (masterpiece), created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Eph 2:10.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Sugar in My Box
Have you ever made a commitment to give up sugar? The first day or two of the commitment goes smoothly. You avoid the office party where cakes, cookies and soft drinks are served. You go straight home from work and munch on a fresh salad or other non-sweet food. But, then day three arrives and the sugar craving starts to threaten your sanity. Everywhere you look there is sugar in one form or another: soft drinks, candy, cookies, cake, chewing gum, ice cream. It's like sugar is oozing out of every nook and cranny, intent on destroying your resolve to not partake of the sweet goodness of sugary delicacies. Sugar is almost inescapable.
On January 13, 2010, I made such a resolve: I would give up sugar in honor of my son's addiction. I chose sugar because it is readily available, is relatively cheap, and extremely tempting; like the drugs hell-bent on destroying our family.
The first few days weren't too painful; I graciously passed on offers of sweet treats at work parties, and, since I frequently diet, my friends thought it was another diet phase. Then the Lent season came and most people thought I was observing Lent by giving up sugar. I don't observe Lent. I didn't want to make a big deal of my commitment since it was between me and God and my son.
I made this commitment so that in some small way I would understand the temptation my son faces each time the urge to take painkillers strikes him. I wanted to somehow feel what he feels when confronted with the choice to use or not use. I didn't want to literally "walk a mile in his shoes" to experience the temptations, so giving up sugar was an acceptable substitute.
As a non-addict (as far as substances go) it is easy to cast stones of judgment at those who are. It is easy to say, "Well, why doesn't he or she just quit? If they would "just say NO" all their problems would go away. It's not that easy or simple. Addiction is a complex matter and overused cliches and euphisms won't cure an addict. My simple commitment to avoid sugar is a daily choice, much like the choice to use or not use a drug or drink is a choice. But even my commitment isn't so simple because I am faced with sugar everywhere I go, much like an addict is faced with drugs or alcohol.
One day, I confronted, head-on, some of what he, and others like him, must face. I had an extremely stressful day and wanted to reward myself in the afternoon with a soda. I saw the can sitting in the refrigerator and thought, "I'm so stressed and exhausted, I deserve to relax with a Coke. No one is here and it's only one drink. Josh will never know that I drank it. No one will ever know." I argued with myself for over an hour. I pushed through the temptation and had a glass of water. I won that battle, that day. To some it may sound silly, arguing with oneself over drinking a can of soda, but the battle was with my commitment: I committed to no sugar until my son is clean and sober, but in that moment, I felt justified in having something sweet "just this one time."
In similar fashion, an addict vows to never use again, but the vow is tested often and with much fervor. A friend has some pills or weed or other drug and an offer is made. Or, maybe there isn't an overt offer. Just knowing that something is available is enough to get the mental argument raging. The battle of the mind kicks in...full force. "It's just one pill. No one will ever know."
As you go about your daily life, stop and consider the behavior that so easily throws you off track: The unkind thoughts, the un-Christlike attitudes, the overeating affecting your health, the excessive shopping ruining your finances and remember there is a stereotypical addict making a decision to live "one day at a time." As you confront your "normal, acceptable" behaviors, say a prayer for an addict. Ask God to bless them with the serenity to accept the things they cannot change, the courage to change the things they can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Pray that God will grant them courage to continue doing the next right thing--one day at a time.
Proverbs 22:4 says, "Humility and the fear of the Lord bring wealth and honor and life." This is a worthy saying for both the addict and non-addict.
On January 13, 2010, I made such a resolve: I would give up sugar in honor of my son's addiction. I chose sugar because it is readily available, is relatively cheap, and extremely tempting; like the drugs hell-bent on destroying our family.
The first few days weren't too painful; I graciously passed on offers of sweet treats at work parties, and, since I frequently diet, my friends thought it was another diet phase. Then the Lent season came and most people thought I was observing Lent by giving up sugar. I don't observe Lent. I didn't want to make a big deal of my commitment since it was between me and God and my son.
I made this commitment so that in some small way I would understand the temptation my son faces each time the urge to take painkillers strikes him. I wanted to somehow feel what he feels when confronted with the choice to use or not use. I didn't want to literally "walk a mile in his shoes" to experience the temptations, so giving up sugar was an acceptable substitute.
As a non-addict (as far as substances go) it is easy to cast stones of judgment at those who are. It is easy to say, "Well, why doesn't he or she just quit? If they would "just say NO" all their problems would go away. It's not that easy or simple. Addiction is a complex matter and overused cliches and euphisms won't cure an addict. My simple commitment to avoid sugar is a daily choice, much like the choice to use or not use a drug or drink is a choice. But even my commitment isn't so simple because I am faced with sugar everywhere I go, much like an addict is faced with drugs or alcohol.
One day, I confronted, head-on, some of what he, and others like him, must face. I had an extremely stressful day and wanted to reward myself in the afternoon with a soda. I saw the can sitting in the refrigerator and thought, "I'm so stressed and exhausted, I deserve to relax with a Coke. No one is here and it's only one drink. Josh will never know that I drank it. No one will ever know." I argued with myself for over an hour. I pushed through the temptation and had a glass of water. I won that battle, that day. To some it may sound silly, arguing with oneself over drinking a can of soda, but the battle was with my commitment: I committed to no sugar until my son is clean and sober, but in that moment, I felt justified in having something sweet "just this one time."
In similar fashion, an addict vows to never use again, but the vow is tested often and with much fervor. A friend has some pills or weed or other drug and an offer is made. Or, maybe there isn't an overt offer. Just knowing that something is available is enough to get the mental argument raging. The battle of the mind kicks in...full force. "It's just one pill. No one will ever know."
As you go about your daily life, stop and consider the behavior that so easily throws you off track: The unkind thoughts, the un-Christlike attitudes, the overeating affecting your health, the excessive shopping ruining your finances and remember there is a stereotypical addict making a decision to live "one day at a time." As you confront your "normal, acceptable" behaviors, say a prayer for an addict. Ask God to bless them with the serenity to accept the things they cannot change, the courage to change the things they can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Pray that God will grant them courage to continue doing the next right thing--one day at a time.
Proverbs 22:4 says, "Humility and the fear of the Lord bring wealth and honor and life." This is a worthy saying for both the addict and non-addict.
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