Recently, my husband and I watched a compelling documentary on plant-based eating. Before the documentary, I considered making some changes in our diet, so, being an all-or-nothing girl, I decided to jump in with both feet.
I arrived at the local grocery with a manilla folder containing five plant-based meals, all with a long list of ingredients located in mysterious locations throughout the store, such as fresh ginger (hint: it’s not in the ginger ale aisle!), flaxseed, soy milk, leeks and so on.
Fully committed to bags of foreign ingredients, I decided to start our glorious adventure with veggie burgers. I had pots and pans, a food processor, and a ninja blender all in use as I sauteed leeks and lemon juice and turned walnuts to dust with the ninja, all the while slowly boiling the liquid out of my brown lentils. The smell was horrific, but my attitude was stellar.
Long story short—the burgers were possibly the worst meal I have ever served to my husband in 35 years of marriage. We did our best to eat them, but we agreed to toss the leftovers.
We enjoyed a Culver’s butter burger, fries, and caramel custard the next day.
As I licked away the last of my custard from my spoon, I remembered a song from a record my mom had played when I was a kid called Junk Food Junkie (by Larry Groce). He first sang it in 1975. He talks about how he’s known by all of his friends as being healthy, “In the daytime, I’m Mr. Natural, just as healthy as I can be—but at night I’m a junk food junkie, good Lord have mercy on me!” His worst fear is: “I'm afraid someday they’ll find me, all stretched out on my bed—with a handful of Pringles potato chips and a ding-dong by my head.”
If I am honest, I have felt the same fear about myself from time to time. Not concerning food, but involving the church. It is easy to put on the church face, say the right things, and appear to be a spiritual hero. But then, Monday always arrives with its share of unfair circumstances, unexpected tornadoes, and people who don’t understand things the way they should. And suddenly, a thought, a sideways glance, a word that would not be welcome in the church, a judgment that does not exemplify the character of Christ, and a sinking spirit from the realization of the reality of one’s humanity become the truth of who I am.
I become the me that I’m not proud of, the me who stares at her reflection in the mirror in an attempt to understand who that person truly is at her core.
I believe that each of us deeply, and often secretly, longs to be true to the person we know God created us to become. Even in the moments—or perhaps, especially when we are aware of our depravity. If we are never willing to look inside, the authenticity that comes only through the lens of truth will never find its way out. And quite honestly, right now, the world needs to see the authenticity of a life striving after the heart of God like never before. And part of that authenticity might be allowing others to see us when we aren’t pretending to have it all figured out.
Romans 12:2 reminds us, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”
Maybe praying for God to renew our minds so we can become more like Him might be a good starting point. His Spirit in us gives us hope and changes us from the inside out. We cannot muster enough self-discipline in our strength to emulate the glory of Christ within, but as He renews our minds, we are more clearly able to live each day in His perfect will. Kind of a slow process of becoming a pure, authentic child of God even outside of Sunday morning.
Last night, after four days of recovering from the veggie burger event, I was back at it with vegan vegetable curry chowder. Much to my surprise, and even more so to my husband’s surprise—the meal was delicious.
I don’t have a clue what tonight’s dinner menu holds. It could be cauliflower macaroni, or it could be a frozen pepperoni pizza.
Good Lord, have mercy on me!
Stay the Course…
Sheila
