Jacob wrestled the angel and the angel was overcome

I have an ear problem.  I’ve had this problem for 4 years.  I’ve been to several doctors.  The best they can guess is that I have Eustachian Tube Dysfunction, which has to do with blocking the air that normally passes between the ears and the throat when a person swallows.

Luckily it’s not painful, but it does give me this “trapped” feeling.  I’ve been trapped for 4 years.  In order to feel better I like to eat tasty food, my favorites being bread, dairy, and sugar.  For a normal person this would be a minor health issue.  So you eat ice cream and pizza and donuts every once in a while–big deal.

Unfortunately for me it is a big deal.  The three food groups that make my ear problem worse just so happen to be bread, dairy, and sugar.

So the more tasty food I eat the more trapped I feel, and the more trapped I feel the more I need something to make me feel good, like sugar and dairy and bread.  It’s a vicious cycle, really.

In times of suffering people tend to look to God, either to tell him that he actually doesn’t exist; or he does exist and he’s bad; or for meaning and guidance and comfort.  The tradition I come from emphasizes God’s sovereignty, therefore if somebody gets cancer that means that God placed the cancer inside him in order to bring himself glory in some way.  There are Bible verses we point to in order to prove our point, either to ourselves or to others who might doubt us.

We’re also told that Christ heals people.  He did it while he was on earth in a human body and he does it now while he “plays in 10,000 places.”

In his book Letters to Malcom C.S Lewis writes, “At best, our faith and reason will tell us that He is adorable, but we shall not have found him so, not have ‘tasted and seen.’”

I don’t doubt that the Christ heals people, but in my experience he has chosen not to.  I’ve been trapped for 4 years, I’ve knocked on his door thousands of times, bugging him like the woman in that Bible story who bugs the judge at his house so much that he finally gives in.  After four years of knocking, God has not given in.  He could be busy.

And so intellectually I believe that God heals people, but I have not found him to be a healer, I have not “tasted and seen.”  My knocks have gone unanswered.  Is he peeking out the window, watching me bang on his door with tears streaming down my face?  Has he run out of tricks?  Is he sleeping?  He could at least do me the courtesy of opening the door and saying, “You’ve heard it said, ‘Your faith has made you well,’ but please don’t universalize this.  I only wish for some people to be well.  Now leave me alone.”  At least that’s something.  At least he’s honest.

I read in a theology textbook (oddly for a class I took from a place that emphasizes God’s sovereignty) that sometimes we just have to realize that stuff happens.  God didn’t plan it.  God didn’t want it.  It just happens.

This, of course, flies in the face of a perfect theology that must needs have an answer for everything.  I understand the inclination to insist that God is completely in charge of everything and therefore whatever happens to us is God’s will.  It’s comforting.  It helps give us meaning.

What I’m more interested in is “So what?”

So I’ve been trapped for four years and pleaded with God, who is powerful, to do something about it.  And he hasn’t, at least not in a direct way like we find Jesus doing in his ministry.  Some will say that God heals through doctors and such, and to that I respond, Did people come to Jesus only to have him say, “It is true, I am the Christ, and because you have faith, I recommend Dr. Johnson to you.  He will examine you and then give you some pills; if you take them faithfully for approximately two weeks then you will be healed!”  Or, “Boy you ain’t been eating yo’ greens!  Git you some green beans and you gon’ be healed, brotha!  I am the Lord!”

Not so much.

So what?

It may sound like I’m trying to take God out of the equation, but that’s not true, and here’s why:  in some way that I cannot explain, I believe that the world was formed through and is being sustained by this Christ who often does not heal.  I believe humans were made to live responsibly, not recklessly, wise, not unwise.

Sickness happens.  I got sick 4 years ago and that sickness traveled to my ears and remained.  Stuff happens.  Who knows whether or not I would be healed today if I ate more healthily the past 4 years?  I don’t.  All I know is that the more sugar, bread and dairy I eat the worse my ears get.

I was flipping through a book in the Christian Inspiration section of a bookstore.  It was one of those baby-naming books for Christians.  Naturally I flipped to my name to see what Bible verse was attached to it, smirking all the while because I know my name is definitely not Hebrew or Greek so how are they going to stretch a verse to fit it?

When my eyes lay across the page I was undone.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

So what?

So during a month of great weakness I bought a lot of sugar, dairy and bread because this makes me feel good and if I can just stay trapped inside myself with some Mint Mocha Frappuccinos and $5 Pepperoni pizzas and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream then I don’t have to reach outside myself and interact with the world in any meaningful way.  I can stuff my face with pizza and knock on Jesus’ door til my knuckles are bloody and cry myself to sleep because I will not be healed.

During this month of weakness I kept all of my receipts.  I kept them so I could have visual reminders of what a pathetic poop I am, and then turn around and live a healthy life and these receipts would be a part of my past.  Maybe I’d cut them up, who knows.

And then I thought of my name and the Bible verse attached to it by the baby-naming book, and I taped all my receipts to a wall in my room and then went to Meijer.

I bought broccoli.  Organic broccoli.  And I bought green peppers and mixed vegetables and lima beans and chicken.  I bought plums and watermelon, cantaloupe and oatmeal, even fish.  I also bought sticky notes.

Now every time I eat something that doesn’t involve bread or dairy or (refined) sugar, I write the date and the food item on the sticky note and cover up a portion of a receipt.  I even have colors for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks.

I don’t believe in new beginnings but I do believe in new chapters.  I have to own up to my previous chapters.  To know where I’m going I have to know where I’ve been, and I’ve been down the road of tasty, body-destroying food.  I can’t say that I won’t ever venture out that way again, but I can have visual reminders that the story I want to tell with my life involves making wise decisions.

My goal is for my wall to not be overcome by white receipts but to overcome them with colorful sticky notes.

Celebrate with me as this story of overcoming unfolds on my wall.