I Can Quit Any Time

You don’t know you are addicted until you try quitting.

Fasting is hard. I need all the help I can get to stick with it. So, in order to get my fixated mind unglued from whatever I am attempting to eradicate out of this wretched ME-life so I can squeeze a speck of God-life in, I go back to gardening.

My yard is always there waiting for me, ever ready to embrace me with open arms. It never talks back to me (well, maybe a time or two). It rewards me with the satisfaction of a job well done sorely lacking in other areas of my life. Best of all, I can do it mindlessly. I get on my knees, yank the crabgrass by the roots, and just let my brain wander off wherever it wishes…. It feels so empty and quiet, I don’t even hear it buzz…

If only there were no weeds, I would be a better gardener If only there were no weeds, I would be a better gardener… if only there were no weeds. I would be a better gardener…  … IF ONLY THERE WERE NO WEEDS. I WOULD BE A BETTER ?#*&%@# GARDENER…

I am jerked out of my mindless state, wondering who the heck yelled that last sentence. I suspiciously eye the neighbor power-walking her dog on the other side of the street, but she seemed an unlikely candidate.

Since nobody else is around, I accept that this random, isolated, single little thought actually popped inside my own brain by some haphazard fluke of nature.

If only there were no weeds, I would be a better gardener?? True or false?

…

I realize part of me believes the statement is true. The part that likes to deny the reality. For, reality is,

Where there is a garden, there are weeds.

I step back, frowning at my lawn for being so blunt. I take another step back. 

Denial of reality in one area of life usually implicates that there is denial in other areas…

I don't even realize I’ve just flipped open the lid to Pandora’s box. Too late. The sudden onslaught of barking thoughts unleashed at me from some shady corner of my brain seems unstoppable:

If there were no temptations, I would be a better Christian…

I was actually a pretty good parent before we had kids.

If the immature, selfish, SINFUL jerks didn't also call themselves Christians, I would....

A howling mayhem of whining dogs rushed through the rickety fence of my horrified mind and brazenly overtook the entire stage.

You really don’t know how deeply you are addicted until you try quitting.