Toss the Cheetos

My mother was a stickler for purchasing only what was needed for cooking healthy meals. Her idea of a snack was fruit. On rare occasions, she would bring out non-chocolate, non-sugary treats like vanilla wafers or graham crackers, neither of which aroused my taste buds. But, oh, the next-door neighbor’s kids…

The next-door neighbor’s kids had Cheetos. Our yard was separated from theirs by a chain link fence, and they were kind enough to share Cheetos through the links. We were too young to walk to the neighborhood grocery store by ourselves, but we walked with Mom. I was four, my sister Leslie was two, and my brother Greg hadn’t arrived yet.

I couldn’t read and I didn’t know the name of those magical long, crunchy cheese treats that the neighbors shared—but I recognized the bag. I begged Mom to buy them for us, but she refused, so when her back was turned, I snatched a bag and hid it under my coat. Let me tell you—you don’t have to be an adult in love to have a pounding heart. My heart boomed like a loose exhaust system on a souped-up race car. I was scared to the point of shakiness on the walk home thinking that my mother would hear my heart and realize what I had done. I skipped ahead of her all the way home.

Once home, I hid in the closet to eat my heavenly snack. Either my generosity or my fear gave me away. Leslie found me in the closet with the Cheetos and wanted some. I can’t remember if I gave her some to be nice—or if I gave them to her so she wouldn’t tattle. The outcome was the same. She ran to Mom and showed her the Cheetos.

The Cheetos were confiscated. I got spanked and sent to bed without supper. The worst part of the punishment was what happened the next day. Mom marched me back to the store to confess to the shopkeeper and pay for the Cheetos.

I’m sure some who experienced a similar episode in their childhoods would never want to eat the offending food again—but not me. I still love Cheetos. Here in our part of Scotland I’ve discovered the UK version of Cheetos—and these with the added attraction of “spicy.” Considering that Bandera, Texas, home of my heart is a place with Mexican food restaurants and cowboys cooking breakfast tacos over an open fire in front of the courthouse on Main Street—spicy Cheetos want-to-bes captured me. Two problems. I can eat the entire bag in one day. I haven’t dared to look at the calorie count—but common sense says that eating an entire bag of “junk food” in one day is not good. And, when I was in the hospital for three months after a hip replacement that became infected and was on drip antibiotics that entire time, I developed diabetes. Never having had a problem with eating any food or dessert and in any quantity before in my life, this illness has taken some stringent self-training to control. After consuming a bag of the want-to-bes in one day, I tested my blood sugar and found that it was up.

As a general rule, I never throw away food. We didn’t get to pick and choose what we wanted to eat when we were kids. We ate whatever was served or went hungry. We sat at the table until we cleaned our plates. I don’t think food from our table ever found its way into a bin. Once in a while one of the Great Dane dogs might have rated a treat—but even that was rare.

When Alan and I first got married, I think he was a bit shocked. If he left something on his plate—I ate it. I did not throw out food. I still don’t. However, I broke that rule yesterday and threw out a bag of want-to-bes that was not completely empty. I tested and found my blood sugar up. The cheesy dream snack had to go. I wasn’t tossing food—I was tossing temptation.

“God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it.” 1 Corinthians 10:13.

Tossing the bag of Cheetos was my escape. If only other temptations were that easy to toss.

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To Save Time

At 4 p.m. on Saturday, I decided to order a delivery for dinner—to save time. My time cooking and cleaning up afterwards.

It was easy to rationalize the need to save time; I had just finished my newest book and deserved a small celebration. Finishing the book took a massive effort and push since I am the solitary care-giver for my husband who is terminally ill and can no longer walk. And since finishing the book, I had given the house a good clean because Alan’s brother was coming to spend a week with us and a childhood friend of theirs was also dropping in for a visit.

I picked up my brother-in-law from the ferry at 4 p.m., and suggested collecting fish and chips on the way home…to save time.

Ian didn’t want fish and chips, so once we got home, we scanned the menu of an Indian restaurant and wrote down three orders. I even included an extra one for our collie, Savannah. Then I began calling to place the order. No one answered the phone. It went straight to a recording again and again. So, to save time, I got into the car and drove back into town to place the order in person. The restaurant was closed. It was now approaching six o’clock.

Still on a mission to save time, it was back home to find the menu for the Chinese restaurant and search it. Since it was Saturday, all the restaurants were busy, but my call finally went through and I placed the orders.

By 7:20 p.m., I had to admit my failure to save time. We still hadn’t eaten. We were still waiting for the order. The food finally came and we fell on it like a pack of hungry wolves. To be fair, we did remember to pray first.

The problem with eating so late was that I was late walking Savannah and by the time I got out with her—the midges were out. And hungry. I soon had a circle of stings and itches circling my head from under the brim of my woolly hat to under my hair at the base of my skull.

To save time, I had wasted three hours. Tomorrow…I will cook.

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1

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Excesses

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The man was about the size and shape of a refrigerator, except with extra padding in front—padding that pushed him away from the table and his food. Like the man, his food was considerable: a full Scottish breakfast (bacon, sausage, black pudding, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes, baked beans, an egg, and toast); a bacon and egg filled bun; two bottles of Pepsi; two cappuccinos; two desserts.

It was the man’s business. It was the man’s body. It was his money. His bill for one meal was as much as ours for two. Moving seemed to be a problem for him, even though he looked like he was in his early forties. He grabbed and pushed everything he could get his hands on to haul himself out of his chair and get to his feet. When he moved forward, he limped on both legs as if his knees hurt. Some folks have medical conditions that contribute to obesity. The man was probably hungry and with a body that big, it must take food fuel to move it. Still, I thought part of his overweight problem might be the excesses; a filled bacon and egg roll on top of the full breakfast, the two desserts, two bottles of pop and two cappuccinos.

When do our excesses become someone else’s business? When do we not have a right to our own bodies and to treat them however we want?

The Biblical answer is that we do not own our bodies. God does. God created us. Then He purchased life for eternity for us through the death of His Son Jesus. We are twice owned by God. “Your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you…you were bought at a price; therefore glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which are God’s.” 1 Corinthians 6:19.

“Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple are you.” 1 Corinthians 3:17.

Because sin entered the world through Adam and Eve and sin brought death into the world, we all begin the journey toward death at our births. God didn’t want this or intend this—His plan was always eternal life. That’s why our bodies have great capacity for healing. But old age and death approach as steadily as a fish being reeled in on a rod until the net slaps under it and catches it. None of us can halt the day of our death, but we can fight against the excesses that destroy our bodies, the temples of God; gluttony, alcoholism, drug use, smoking. We can’t stop the reel and escape the net—but neither should we willingly leap into it.

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Proof…You Really Are What You Eat

Whoever said, “You are what you eat,” had it right. Our rough collie, Angel Joy, is a living testament.

Angel Joy developed irritable bowel syndrome (IBS). For nearly a year, life at our house was miserable. Angel Joy’s stomach made runaway train sounds at night. She woke me up repeatedly to take her outside because of constant diarrhea. After each trip outside, she had to be cleaned up before we went back to bed. She lost stamina and energy. Our daytime walks decreased in length. A few times I picked up the fifty-pound dog and carried her part of the way back. Every few days, I had to cook chicken and rice for her. She had pills and tube medicine to take three times a day.

Because it took so long to diagnose and the vet wasn’t completely assured that IBS was Angel Joy’s only problem, expensive and time-consuming medical procedures were planned that would require us to take her nearly 200 miles away. As a stop-gap measure, the vet put Angel Joy on a gastro intestinal dog food. For treats, she could have cooked chicken – nothing else.

Even the vet was amazed at the result. For the first time in nearly a year, we slept through the night. Angel Joy re-gained the weight she had lost and recovered the joy reflected in her name. Walks lengthened as her energy and stamina returned. Anything Angel Joy eats – other than the special diet food and cooked chicken – causes a return of IBS symptoms, even something as seemingly insignificant as one fry that drops on the floor.

There is a spiritual parallel to this. Proverbs 23:7 says that as we think in our heart, so we become. Jesus said it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles a person, not what goes into the mouth, because we speak from what is stored in our hearts.

The cliché, “Garbage in, garbage out,” is as true as “You are what you eat.” We become what we allow to pass through the physical gateways of our body, our eyes and ears. Whatever we read, whatever we watch on television or movies, whatever we hear – all these build us into what we become.

The Bible provides a reliable filter for spiritual health, “Whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there in anything praiseworthy – meditate on these things.” Philippians 4:8.

Guarding physical and spiritual health in 2015 builds us for now and eternity.