Confessions of a Sugar Addict

I have this sign on the wall in my classroom at the front just above my desk. As you might imagine I deal with excuses non-stop in my public high school classroom Come on! I teach writing for crying out loud. In every class there are always students that flatly refuse to write. I'd say, subjectively, about 10 out of 100 of my students has this mysterious problem putting pen to paper. I keep having conversations that look like this:

Me: I see you haven't written anything yet. Is something wrong?

Student: I don't know what to write.

Me: Well, I've asked you to write about ___________, so try to start by just writing out the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of __________.

The student shifts in her seat and nods. I continue to walk around the room and come back in about five to seven minutes to check on any progress made. The page is still blank.

Me: I see you still haven't written anything. (The student sighs beginning to become more defiant.) You have to try. I  can't do this for you. My job is to help you with your writing, but I can't do that if you don't write anything.

Student: I don't feel good. (amazingly some students are afflicted with this syndrome as soon as they enter my classroom every day. The student crosses her arms and puts her head down.)

Me: I'm sorry you aren't feeling well. Do you want to call someone to come get you?

Student: No. I have too many absences already.

Me: Okay. Well, you need to sit up then, and write something even if you feel a little sick. I'm not going to allow you to sit here doing nothing. If you stay here, you're going to work.

One of two things usually happens at this point. Either the student writes something down just to make me go away, or she becomes more defiant and forces a confrontation, which leads to a trip to administration.

These conversations don't generally make me angry. I just feel disappointed. By the time I ask my students to write independently, we've already spent time discussing the different approaches they can try, and I always model the writing myself. I'm not asking them to do anything I haven't already done in front of them.

At the same time I understand that writing can be hard especially in the beginning. Students have all these ideas whirling around in their heads or a lack of informed opinions about the topic at hand. Either extreme is frustrating. Some students can't keep up with the speed of their thoughts and rush through producing something barely readable. Others painstakingly eek out a few broad sentences that don't really say anything.

In addition there is something vulnerable about writing. You have to be confident enough to put your ideas out there in physical space where people may disagree with them, or worse, criticize or hate you for them. My students have to trust me, and for some of them that's really hard to do. I do my best to earn it, but sometimes that isn't enough.

For the students that choose to trust me there is something worthwhile being offered. If they can have a little faith in their teacher, they can become better writers. I spend a considerable amount of time trying to communicate the importance of this trade to them. They will be able to produce good papers for other classes, write an effective resume, compose a grammatically correct business email, or uncover their latent poetic talents -- all if they trust me enough to let me help them.

It sounds easy, but I know it's not. I've been there myself. If you read my previous post, A Bird Pooped in My Mouth, you know that I've always struggled in my relationship with food. I have to eat; I can't just avoid it, but eating in a healthy way eludes me. So I have decided to do what I've always asked my students to do. I have committed myself to something that I know I can't do on my own. I've been on diets since I was nine. I've done Weight Watchers, I've let Richard Simmons teach me how to Deal-a-Meal, I've downed appetite suppressants, I've kept food journals...the list goes on. Sure, some of them worked for a while but never for good.

What am I going to do now? Well, I've committed myself to a year without desserts. Yes, you did read that correctly. I didn't say "a year without deserts." I said, "a year without desserts." Some of you may be thinking, "So what? That's not a big deal!" Maybe it wouldn't be to you, but it is to me. Obviously if I cut out excess sugar from my diet, I'm hoping to lose weight. However there is more to this commitment than meets the eye.

I can't do it. I love desserts so much. I can't even tell you. When I'm counting calories, I'd rather have a piece of chocolate cake than a steak dinner. It isn't even a contest. I'm sitting here ten days out, and I can tell you that I dreamed about chocolate last night. I'm serious. I dreamed I was in Dollar General. I bought a piece of chocolate and started eating it. Then I realized that I had committed to a dessert fast and started to spit it out into my hand. I hope that makes you laugh; I did.

Let me tell you the most important thing about it:

The dessert fast isn't really about my physical health.





I recently came to a realization. I've been making excuses about my life for a long time. I would say things like, "I want to be totally committed to Jesus, but I can decide what I eat, what I do with my free time, and what I spend my money on." So lately when I sat down to re-examine my life, I found that  deep down in my heart I wasn't nearly as abandoned to Jesus as I thought I was. I would pray about my health, but I was unwilling to surrender up the things I love to eat to God's control.

I already told you in my previous post that I was using food to comfort me instead of turning to God and being comforted in his presence and through his provision. There's nothing wrong with a cupcake, unless it is more important to me than God. I might never say such a thing, but I've certainly been acting like it's true. What we do is  always the true picture of ourselves after all, not just the things we say.

For the next year every time I'm tempted to eat a dessert, I'm going to have to pray for divine help, but that's just the situation I need to be in. I'm hoping to redirect my physical desire for a holier desire. I want to make sure Jesus is the sweetest thing in my life. I don't need ten Dove chocolates to make it through the day; I need my Savior.

At worship this last Sunday I was affirmed in my commitment by the quote at the bottom of the sermon outline. It said, "Sometimes people talk about how they are struggling with certain sins or working through them, when what they really mean is that they are delaying obedience." Elizabeth Elliot said that. She knows what she's talking about. Her husband was Jim Elliot. If you don't know his story, he was martyred, and after his death Elizabeth chose to continue witness to the people who killed her husband. Let's just say she knows a little bit about obedience. There's even a movie about it called End of the Spear. You should check it out if you've never seen it.

Here's what Jesus tells us about obedience:

Knowing the correct password -- saying 'Master, Master' for instance -- isn't going to get you anywhere with me. What is required is obedience -- doing what my Father wills. I can see it now -- at the Final Judgement thousands strutting up to me and saying, "Master, we preached the Message, we bashed the demons, our God-sponsored projects had everyone talking.' And do you know what I'm going to say? 'You missed the boat. All you did was use me to make yourselves important. You don't impress me one bit. You're out of here.' (Matt. 7:21-23 The Message)

Obedience is not an easy thing for anybody. Believe me. I teach high school students. When I really thought about not eating desserts for a year, I came up with several reasons to do it.  I only came up with one reason not to -- I didn't want to deny myself.

Here's what David Platt says --

Radical obedience to Christ is not easy; it is dangerous. It is not smooth sailing aboard a luxury liner; it is sacrificial duty aboard a troop carrier. It's not comfort, not health, not wealth, and not prosperity in this world. Radical obedience to Christ risks losing all these things. But in the end, such risk finds its reward in Christ. And he is more than enough for us.

I'm sitting here feeling a  bit silly for committing to something so simple yet still needing divine help to see it through, which lets me know it's doing its job. Maybe you can't think of any weaknesses or addictions in your life; hopefully, you've outstripped me in spiritual growth.

For me, breaking my addiction to sweets is just one step I'm taking to a new life, one more intensely surrendered to the cause of Christ than ever before. I want that kind of life and relationship more than the best candy in the world, and I'd want to invite you to join me. No. You don't have to quit eating cookies. I'm talking about using your life to serve Jesus, and no one else can begin that pursuit for you. The decision is yours alone.


Image Credit:
http://toys.scholarschoice.ca/products/Argus-505/Argus-Excuse-Limit-0-Poster-p15425/pstart97/