The Curse of the Christmas Cookie

If I listen to the culture around me I learn that Christmas is about eating as much sweet stuff as I can fit into my mouth, spending too much money on gifts and dressing up for parties. There's lots of lights, more than enough glitz to go around and cookies--my goodness but there are cookies!

Cookies get me every year. Who came up with the idea of the Christmas Cookie anyway? Everywhere I turn they are laughing at me with their powdered sugar icing eyes. I can't escape! Before I can say sweet tooth, I've gained 10 pounds and I'm fully sugar addicted again. And I can't hide from Christmas. That's not an option. So I have to stare my cookie addiction straight in the face and deal with it head on.

In years past I've come up with strategies to deal with my cookie problems. Denial. Self-control. Exercise. You name it, I've tried it. So when I walked down the hall at work this morning and the guys invited me to have some cookies they were taken aback by my curt response, "Nooooooooo!" It was more of a caterwaul than a word. A wail. A cry of agony that meant, "Please don't wave cookies at me. I can't stand it!" They looked at me and laughed. "Okay then, Margaret. Don't eat any cookies. Good grief!"

I was at a luncheon with other admins at work recently when the dessert menu came out. I took one look at the picture of chocolate silk cheesecake pie and leapt out of my seat and fled the restaurant. Everyone was staring at me. I felt ridiculous and I didn't care. All I could think was, "Run! Run for your life!" I didn't know what else to do. I knew if I ate that chocolate silk thing I was doomed. Doomed to eating more. Stricken by false need to coat my throat with sugar, fat and salt. And I just couldn't deal with it. I didn't care what people thought. I just knew I had to run and never look back.

Today I survived the infamous office department meeting with the most beautiful Christmas cookies I have ever seen. Okay, I see them all the time, but every time is a new temptation. They were lovely. Soft. Sensuously sweet. And now I'm drooling again.

The truth about cookies is this, I don't have a stop button when it comes to them. If I eat one, I have to eat 10 and 20 and 100. I don't know why. It's not fair. But something in my body goes completely berserk when they come into contact with my tongue. So this year my new strategy is an old one...just say no. And then don't cry about it. Don't obsess about how unfair it is that I can't have them. Don't listen to the lies my brain concocts about having been so good that I can eat just one. It's all poppycock! This year, I have resolved not to eat even one Christmas cookie. Period. End of story. And that's that.

Did someone just say Chick-Fil-A ice cream? Dang-it!

Stormy Seas and the Anchor that Holds True

"Now I wonder if I'm really stout-hearted enough. 'Cause my riggin' is tattered and these waters are rough." - Andrew Peterson

I haven't been posting much because I have been going through significant change in my life. Big change is never easy and I'll admit I have been very busy. I'm busy physically, mentally and emotionally. My brain whirs like a top, spinning from one situation to the next as I attempt to solve problems that don't have easy solutions. I haven't taken time to slow down and really process the way I need to because there hasn't been time. So I do what I do best--I keep moving, keep striving, and keep hoping the wind and waves will settle down soon.

But the blows keep coming and this morning I woke at 3:30am with my heart pounding and my thoughts skipping like a broken record. I took some deep breaths but it didn't help. I prayed. Nothing. My heart kept racing and my body refused to rest. So I got up and took a hot bath. I thought, "hot water will relax me." Nope. My heart sped up, even as I did everything physically possible to calm myself. Then I started to pray because that's who I am. When I get really lost in life I just cry out to my God. This may sound crazy for some, but God is very real to me. And then I started to cry.

I cried because I am sad at letting go of things that have mattered to me. I am losing something I love and clinging to the unknown. Home and place have taken on a new meaning. I am spacially disrupted and unhinged from comforts long afforded me. It's humbling, humiliating and terrifying all at the same time. I'm not sure which way my circumstances will take me and I grieve what once was. If I sound a little vague, that's okay. This is the internet and I don't need to share all my intimate secrets. But for anyone who has ever encountered big life changes, I'm sure you understand or can relate in some way.

I believe the reason for this anxiety-induced insomnia is because of another great blow that was dealt me yesterday. Just one more wave in a choppy sea of encroaching deadlines. Last night I found myself standing in an empty basement while holding a flashlight and praying like crazy I wasn't hanging my hopes on all the wrong things. Alas, I was.

This morning I come to the end of myself. I come to the end of my hopes and dreams. I come to realize there are some things in life we simply have no control over. For someone who tries so hard to control the little details with such precision, this can be a very daunting dilemma. Maybe that is why yesterday, when a good friend said to me, "maybe you won't get that thing you really want, and if you don't, that's okay," I flinched. Actually, I flailed. I balled my fists and screamed internally, "I have to have it! Don't you understand?! I can't imagine what my life will look like if I don't!" This morning I realize I've been hanging my hat, so to speak, on the wrong peg.

I often cling too tightly to the wrong things. I grab food when I should go hungry. I exercise when I need to rest. Like my dog Tank, I run and run and run, but eventually I have to realize I can't run from myself or my problems. Today is a day when I face them head on. And there are tears--so many tears.

I have to let this thing go and trust that my anchor will hold even if the masts split and fall into the water. I have to trust that though everything be lost--I will not. I am safe and secure in the arms of someone greater than myself, even if my heart is racing and my body is broken and battered. I have to let go and trust that God will provide even if it is not the way I want him to. He knows my needs better than I. But oh, I am so scared!

If you are walking an uncertain path today, know that you are not alone. If you feel you have no hope, know that is not true. Right now I feel much like a juggler with all my balls hanging in the air and I just dropped the flaming stick on my foot. It's hot and it hurts. I may get burned. But I know from past experience that burns heal. Sorrow passes. Joy comes in the morning. I bear many scars on my heart but I know an excellent healer. He is my anchor, my shield, my defender. And I trust Him to guide me through this stormy sea. If you let him, He will lead you too.