Eat, Pray, Grow, by Sandra Byrd

My doctor and I were shocked. I, a seemingly healthy 40-year-old woman, had a blocked artery. Then there were my blood profiles: both cholesterol and blood sugar too high. I determined to set things right, chopping veggies and putting them into baggies, adding salads to each night's downsized dinner. As the knife struck the cutting board, I heard the Holy Spirit murmur, It takes time and commitment to be healthy, doesn't it? I knew he wasn't just talking about my body. He was talking about my soul.

Because it's easier to ignore spiritual issues, God often uses physical symptoms to help me take a closer look at what's happening inside. Insomnia forces me to examine what I'm not handing over to God. Tension headaches ask me to slow down and loosen my grip. My physical illness got my attention, so I decided I'd work on what lay beneath.

I'd developed a pattern of taking on too much. In order to (falsely) comfort my overly busy self, I ate the wrong things in the wrong quantities. I finally understood that my overfed but malnourished body was an outward reflection of an overfed but malnourished soul. While I had many activities that looked good on the outside and garnered praise, they ate up time I might have spent deepening my relationship with God.

I'd relegated my prayer life to rushed pleading in the midst of trouble; my relationship with God felt empty and silent, stagnant and struggling. My body displayed on the outside what was happening on the inside. In the process of healing one, could I heal both? It was time for me to take a serious assessment.

First, I looked at how I ate. I'd run to a warehouse store and stock up on high-quality processed foods that were easy to slap together--maximum bang for my time and buck. Lots of prepackaged items, lots of convenience, lots of microwave ding. Though my family dined together many nights a week, when we timed ourselves, we were astonished to be finished and rushing to the next activity in fewer than 15 minutes.

Sadly, that's what my spiritual diet looked like too.

Instead of savoring and pacing my lessons, I'd wait till the night before to scan the Bible and fill in the blanks for my weekly Bible study. I was more concerned about showing up with filled blanks than in deeply understanding what the teacher, and the Word, might have in store if I'd spend the time to digest slowly and meditate. What was the "real" meal I needed to savor? In Matthew 4:4 Jesus reminds us, "Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God."

That wasn't how I wanted to handle physical or spiritual eating, so I had to make some changes.

Considering my blood-sugar profile and that I'd had gestational diabetes, I knew I had to minimize my refined carbs intake. I'd heard if you cut back on bread, after awhile you lose your taste for it. With a twinge of sorrow, I realized that abstaining from daily Bible reading had caused me to lose my taste for it. I'd put off spending time with Jesus and reading the Bible to the end of the day--after I'd gotten everything else done. Unfortunately, by then I was either too tired to learn, or I simply told the Lord that I needed time for "me," certain he'd understand.