Withdrawal

Day three of self-imposed dietary restrictions for the purpose of physical health and spiritual clarity. Struggling big time.

I am craving. I long for a thick slice of warm, homemade bread lathered in soft butter, chocolate in nearly any form, creamy, rich, frothy milk. Cheese. Pasta lathered in alfredo sauce.

And I’m cold. I cannot get warm today. I still shiver underneath three top layers and the outside temperature stays at a stubborn, perpetual 43 degrees. Chilly drafts blow through the century old rental house. The cold seeps in from below. My nose is frozen and I continually sniffle.

It occurred to me as I lay on the couch earlier hibernating under a blanket that couldn’t possibly be thick enough no matter how much stuffing–that I am going through withdrawal.

I resist the urge to remain on the couch, put in a movie and add another two blankets on top. My favorite escapes are being exposed by the Holy Spirit today:  carbs, creamy and rich foods and visual story. These are all comforts to me.

But I think I’ve become a bit too reliant on them to ease the pain in my life, to delay action–spiritual or physical, and have allowed them to have authority in my life that they were never meant to have.

I know, ruled by bread? At times, yes.

So I’ll continue shivering, drink more tea without a splash of regular milk, fight off the carb cravings and look to my Shepherd to guide me in this, the wasteland of my cravings.

What do you crave?

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