Others Magazine

i am an addict. My drug of choice is easily accessible and I have no trouble getting my fix. Due to the shame of my addiction, I try to hide it, but the outward evidence is clear to all. I have struggled with this addiction for most of my adult life. My days have dawned with prayers for strength and the resolve to “just say no”. My days have frequently ended with a sense of failure and prayers for forgiveness.

During my psychological assessment prior to being accepted as a cadet for Salvation Army officer training, tests indicated that I had addictive personality traits. The psychiatrist seemed relieved that I could readily identify food as the issue. I often feel like I bear the shame of this struggle alone, and yet I know I don’t. I hear that one of the most common goals among officers is weight loss.

To be clear, I do not want to contribute to our culture’s obsession with thinness. But it is also my responsibility to keep my body healthy to be able to serve God. If so many others struggle as I do, why do we make light of it? Why are we so concerned about offending those we visit if we decline the offered temptation? Why do we never preach the myriad biblical references to gluttony? Why do we notice the speck in the eye of the clients we see on the streets and in our shelters, and yet ignore the log in our own eye?

I proclaim from the pulpit Paul’s words that “I can do all things through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13) and yet I don’t consistently practise what I preach. In my head I know that “His divine power has given (me) everything (I) need for a godly life ...” (2 Peter 1:3) but the emotions connected to this compulsive behaviour often convince me otherwise. I have often been guilty of allowing my stomach to be my god.