28: for love of ice cream or for love of God?

Who first thought of mixing milk, sugar, and ice? I don't know, but they were brilliant.

I love icecream. I LOVE icecream. It started when I was in college. It didn't help when I started working at the Snack Shop--my job was to serve icecream and make milkshakes. Everyone knew if you accidentally made more milkshake than the plastic cup could hold . . .you could sneak behind the divider and drink the leftovers. YUM! I loved to mix two or three different flavors. Options included Espresso Chip, Mint Chip, Butterfinger, Chocolate, Vanilla, Birthday Cake--but I digress.

Then there was Bible Conference freshman year where the field house offered $1 milkshakes for the week. A friend and I went over there, had a milkshake, then threw maturity to the wind and each ordered another! I think we went back again the next day with a mutual friend and had another round of $1 milkshakes.

Now, six years later, I'm trying to try to be good and cut back on sugar. At least I've been trying for the last couple weeks. Or has it only been a week? Ugh.

If I'm good, I can put a little symbol on my calendar--a circled S with a line through it. If I'm bad, well, I don't get to write anything.

As part of an interview process this week, I had to teach a lesson on the frog cycle to a class of kindergarteners this morning. Despite my apprehension, it went SO well. I left feeling accomplished and confident! I love teaching!

Then I went to my normal MWF job of teaching reading to a conglomerate of grades at a local Christian school. It went horribly. The kids weren't listening, everything was going wrong, as usual, and any confidence and pleasure in my abilities went out the window. I can't do this!

Before I even left the school I was figuring out how I could get some sugar before rushing off to tutoring.

Because, as the saying so aptly puts it, desserts is stressed spelled backwards.

On the drive to tutoring, I was slightly convicted. Was I going to find solace in a milkshake instead of God? Was my choice of therapy going to be icecream instead of my Father?

So, I prayed.

And right before the Chick-Fil-A exit, after quickly searching my heart, I decided that it would be okay to pray AND to get the cookies 'n' cream milkshake too.

Moral of the story: I've always got to remember that food or entertainment is the bandaid not the cure. God is the cure, though He can use food or entertainment to bless me!

Unfortunately, I've found it a lot easier to be deadened by entertainment than to pray about what is on my subconscious. Thankfully, God doesn't give up on our sanctification.