Empty30, Fulfilling God

 The turn  of the new year brought about a massive change for my husband and I.  After months of indulging, going out to eat, gorging ourselves full of pizza and donuts from school functions and rewarding ourselves on weekends with burgers  and tacos, we were feeling awful. We were exhausted, unhealthy, unwell, unenergized, and experiencing other symptoms related to a perpetually unclean diet. My extremities had become fields of psoriasis, and sleep often escaped me due to excessive sugar intake.

So, we decided to do the Whole30. Whole30, for those wise enough to not do it,  is not meant to  be a lifelong diet, but rather a 30-day palate cleanser that allows  your  body to decide what  works  well inside  of it and what does not. You eliminate all foods that aren't natural and  all foods that might trigger abnormal bodily reactions. Among the plethora atop the no-list, you'll see dairy, grains, legumes, alcohol, any processed or added sugar, all  types of  gluten, and pretty much everything that isn't a fruit, vegetable, or meat.

We  said we were in. We ate a celebratory last supper from the Steak 'n Shake drive-thru and emptied our pantry of anything not compliant. Our first store run was nearly $200, and we quickly realized that eating healthy comes at a bigger cost than purely missing Cheetos. 

Week one was easy. Even though we weren't experts at preparing Whole30 meals, we still had a lot of stamina and quickly started seeing results that made it encouraging enough to persist. Plus, we had told everyone we just started, and they weren't going to let us cave so soon. (Anyone who knows me knows I have attempted this numerous times and never made it past Day 11). People actually rallied around us and refused to let us cave. My family passed around a chocolate lava cake at my mom's birthday, and I didn't even take a whiff. Again, early on. Stamina strong. Accountability all-surrounding. We could do this.

Week two might have been even better. We met up with Kacie and Nolan, who are on their second January of the diet, and they gave us a cookbook, lactose-free butter recommendations, and even a platter of dextrose-free bacon. Beka Miner made muffins out of dates and I thought we might actually survive. Plus, after reading every label of every  Walmart hot dog package, we finally found a chicken-and-apple sausage that was, by God's grace, compliant. I have probably eaten fifteen.

Then week three hit. And I would have surely imagined that at this point it would be second nature. A cake walk...er, an apple walk, if you will. We know our recipes. We see results. We're doing it together and Joe won't even let me look at the bagels our parent association caters  every week. But for some reason,  this week, I feel more empty and exhausted than ever. I am grouchy, irritable, and longing for the taste of something good. Something not cauliflower. 

Not only did it cause extreme frustration at food and my fallen body, it also caused a riff between my strong-willed husband and my weak, willing-to-cave self.  What's worse, I realize the root of my anger is  actually a massive sin struggle - an idolatry so deeply rooted in finding satisfaction in food than without it, I feel empty. Seriously! It's not even that I'm craving chocolate. I actually really do find joy in food and comfort in being able to fulfill my  cravings. When I can't do that, it makes a monster out of me. 

So this morning, when all I wanted was a muffin that tasted NOTHING like a Medjool pitted date, I opened Psalm 63. It's a favorite of mine, when David is in the wilderness (probably far more hungry than I am) and (even though it feels hard to believe,) probably having fewer food options too. He could ask for anything, but he cries out to God, "My soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you." 

Have I thought that lately? That my soul thirsts for God? No. My soul thirsts for actual taco seasoning. Waffle fries. Doritos.

Then he goes on. "Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise You. So I will bless you as long as I live...my soul will be satisfied with fat and rich foods." David, a man after God's heart, has learned the secret to fulfillment, and it's not gluten. Its worship of His creator, the sustainer-Savior who saves souls and satisfies the longing of our hearts. What I had been looking for food to fulfill is a hole that only God can consume, and until I truly learn that, I am forever craving, forever unsatisfied.

May I be a follower who daily  declares, "God, my soul thirsts for you." Not pizza or pasta or Texas Roadhouse Rolls - I could have all the food in the world and still be left wanting.

So I'm thankful, I suppose. Thankful my psoriasis is gone, and thankful for a diet that shone light on my sin: my depraved desire for fulfillment outside the things of God. Perhaps that is what will truly bring healing after all.