Beth Moore, juice fasting and sin

"Are you sure I can't get you something?" said the cute waitress. Her sweet smile was fading looking at our tiny bill and thus, a tiny tip.

She had already brought me water with lemon.

"No, really. I'm fine." And since that was the third time I had answered her I felt the need to elaborate a little. "My husband and I are doing a juice fast, so we're not eating for 10 days. Just drinking fresh juice."

And there it was. The look. The are-you-sure-you're-not-drinking-Koolaid-waiting-for-a-comet? look. Followed by "Huh...okay." I was already familiar with this look.

This was day 3 of our juice fast and the day before my daughter's birthday. My mom had offered to watch my son so we could have a "Mommy day" and where did she want to go first? The sushi restaurant! That's where both of my kids always want to go on a Mommy day. I have them trained well. It's my favorite.

And seeing as how I hadn't eaten food in 3 days I thought it might be a tough temptation, but we were celebrating!

So I sat there with my water and lemon wedge and watched my almost five year old eat my favorite food ever. No big deal. And she couldn't finish 4 pieces so we LEFT THEM! Ugh! Awful. No, no big deal.
I was so happy to have overcome temptation when it was right in front of me. I probably even pat myself on the back a few times for it and gave myself a high five, which I guess would really be a clap, but you get my drift. I thought, "I've got this fasting thing down. No big deal. 7 more days. Easy peasy."

I made it through her birthday. Served her an insanely delicious looking cake with cream cheese frosting and chocolate chips sprinkled on top. I even got some frosting on my finger and WASHED IT OFF!  *gasp*

On the following day, day 5, I had a very tiring day. My husband was coming home late and so I fed the kids by myself. I made them grilled pimento cheese sandwiches. The smell was intoxicating. As they ate I made my freshly squeezed green juice. The smell was not as intoxicating. But I sipped it as I cleaned the kitchen. As I cleaned up the kids plates I started to throw their leftovers away and I noticed that my son hadn't taken a single bite of his sandwich. So I did what I would normally always do when cleaning up the kids' plates. I took a bite without even thinking about it. Am I the only mom who is a human garbage disposal? I hope not. And how could a son of mine not devour a grilled pimento cheese sandwich? How wasteful! Mid-swallow I remembered "Wait! We're not eating food! Stop!" But it had already gone down. "Do I throw it up? Is it going to make me sick? What do I do?" So I looked at the rest of the sandwich for a few seconds as the taste of the first bite lingered on my tongue. And then I ate it. The whole stinking thing. My flesh was whispering to me 'You've already messed up. You might as well finish it off.'

The rest of the night I felt terrible about it. I prayed, I repented, I was forgiven. Done, right? No need to tell my husband. Move on to a new day. Get back on track.

So the next day I woke up and felt even worse about it. I was hostile to my kids most of the day. I was snarky with texts to my husband. I physically got ill, too. Fasts were not meant to be broken with grilled pimento cheese sandwiches. That's all I'll say about that.

That night I went to see Beth Moore at her Living Proof Live conference. Several times that afternoon I thought of many reasons not to go. I was in a foul mood, but I rallied and made it there. As the lights were going down in the auditorium, tears welled up in my eyes and I was so surprised. I wasn't in the mood for this. Stop it, tears. Where did you come from? But as the worship music came on they fell freely from my face. I managed to clean myself up as the lights went back up and Beth came out on the platform to speak. About 5 minutes into the evening she started talking about how amazing the food is in Charleston and she had such an amazing dinner. Then she put a picture on the screen of her meal.

A GRILLED PIMENTO CHEESE SANDWICH!

I started crying again. If anyone saw me they would have thought I was an insane person. Who cries over pimento cheese? Unless it's spilled on the floor or something, but even then you enforce the 5 second rule, right? So I straightened myself up and told myself that it was just a crazy coincidence. God wasn't convicting me in the middle of 9,000 women, right?

Beth went on to discuss the first two of her eight points for the conference. The first one was: 'We are here to be more honest versions of ourselves.'

BAM! Convicted. Fess up, Stacie.

And her second point was 'We cannot fully walk in our birthright if we are living as part fraud.'

WOW! Ok, I get it. I need to tell my husband.

And she elaborated into saying how social media is such a slippery-slope for Christians and that we need to make sure we are fully representing ourselves and not just putting our best side on there for self-promotion. Immediately the previous 5 days of Instagrams went through my brain. All posts of my juice fast and people telling me what a great job I was doing. And no, there was no Instagram depicting me eating a grilled pimento cheese sandwich. That one didn't make it on there.

So, after the conference that night I called my husband from the parking lot to tell him about my slip. Which was first accidental (the first bite) and then intentional (inhaling the rest of it.) He was so gracious, as he is always. And after we talked I sat in traffic for about an hour on my way home and thought of how this slip played out. The whole fast I had thought that if I avoided temptation I would be fine. But when I actually did fall and taste the "forbidden fruit", it was my natural inclination to do so. It was almost instinctual. And then afterwards when I realized what I had done it was almost as if a serpent was whispering into my ear "it's too late now. you're so weak. you might as well keep sinning because it's what you do best." But the real sin came when my husband walked through the door that night and I had the chance to tell him what happened, but I didn't. I felt shameful and embarrassed and weak. And I should have shared that with him, but I didn't. This is how sin usually operates in my life. It's at first accidental, then intentional, and then deceptive. It's an ugly vicious cycle, but then there is the beautiful conclusion: repentance, forgiveness, grace. Thank you, Jesus!

To finish the rest of my drive home I decided to listen to my bible study chapter on my phone. (YouVersion app is awesome, by the way. The guy who reads it is sooo dramatic and I really enjoy it) Towards the end of the chapter this verse hit me like a ton of bricks : 

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective. James 5:16

And I felt like God was telling me that I needed to confess my sins to not just my husband, but to everyone who had been supporting me and rooting me on during this fast. I certainly don't want to represent myself as something I'm not. I don't want to lie to any of you, my friends. So, I have slowly been telling my girlfriends and now I am publicly outing myself! I ATE A GRILLED PIMENTO CHEESE SANDWICH!! 

So, today is Day 10. The final day of the juice fast. And we plan on breaking the fast with our small group tonight. A group of friends who have prayed for me and encouraged me the past few years so I think it only fitting we celebrate with them. But I'm not bringing any pimento cheese sandwiches!

(For a recap of our juice fast results check back later in the week!)

A decade under construction.

The town we live in is named Mount Pleasant. I mean, that's about as close to the 50s parody movie Pleasantville as you can get without being downright obnoxious. When I hear "Mount Pleasant" I can hear the first few whistling notes of the Andy Griffith Show theme song and I envision bake sales and sock hops and church bazaars. And while Mount Pleasant certainly is a wonderful to live and raise a family, it may not always appear to be that way as you roll into a totally, chaotic construction zone as soon you as you enter the town limits from any direction. I've lived here the better part of 10 years and as soon as one project is completed another ones seems to begin. A road is made wider, but then that road needs a new shoulder, or a bike lane, or a whole new lane. We are constantly pushing and stretching our limits to make room for new people, new families. The price of progress. But totally worth it. So we show the construction workers grace and smile and wave as they demolish yet another intersection so it can turn into a flower-edged traffic circle or put up yet ANOTHER stop light. We can see the light at the end of the tunnel and we show grace. Hopefully. 

This town has really been a mirror for my own life in many ways. 10 years ago to this very day I was a total mess of emotion, a broken-down pile of rubble and felt like something inside me had been demolished. 

It was during a night of worship on a Tuesday geared towards the youth of our church- called The Annex. I had been struggling with a host of inner conflicts in the days, weeks, months and even years leading up to this night. But that night God brought out the wrecking ball of Hope and destroyed the hurts and fears in my life. He gave me a glimpse into what life could look like for me. 

For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. Romans 8:24-25

I had been trying for so long to 'take control' and 'do it my way', but that night I surrendered and gave up, and gave my life to Him. Did I wake up the next morning a restored woman ready to take on the world's sorrow? Um, no. In fact I didn't sleep at all that night. Looking back I can say that God was probably using those restless nights to hear Him through the stillness. But there were a lot of restless nights! Nights spent reading and writing and digging into who God wanted me to be and see where my place was in this world. And for the first time in my life I knew there was a plan. A purpose meant just for me. And that all the things leading up to this change was part of that plan. 

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11

And so the last ten years my life has resembled a pretty chaotic construction site. I have slowly repaved some of the larger potholes of my life only to then get to a spot where I realize I need to construct a bridge to avoid shark infested waters. Some days I look in the mirror and I see caution tape wrapped around my mouth warning me to shut up if I know what's good for me. Other seasons I feel like I need to walk around with those big orange barrels surrounding my very existence so people know what a mess is abut to invade their space. But the whole time has been a season of learning about God's amazing grace. Knowing that God doesn't love me any more than He did on that dark day 10 years ago when I handed Him the big pile of rubble that my life had become. To Him it was better than a field of the sweetest smelling wildflowers because it was His creation. And any amount of effort I put in after that was just a beautification project in reality. 

 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect. No, I worked harder than all of them—yet not I, but the grace of God that was with me. 1 Corinthians 15:10

Don't get me wrong, the past 10 years have been filled with A LOT of glory-filled moments. I got a job working with people I truly enjoyed being with and sharing life with. I married a man who shows me love and strength even on the days when I should have "Yield" or "Proceed with Extreme Caution" tattooed on my forehead. I gave birth to 2 of the cutest, smartest, and sweetest kids EVER. (I'm not even exaggerating here, ok?) And I have enjoyed strengthening bonds with my parents who prayed me through the darkest of days. The agony and pain I must have put them through I pray I never fully know. And I have founded deeper relationships with other people who also accept me as the crumbled, broken mess I am. People who I am privileged to call friends. People who I get the honor to 'do life' alongside. 

And now what are you waiting for?
Get up, be baptized and wash your sins away, calling on his name.
Acts 22:16

My faithful, prayer-warrior parents
June, 2002

I share these things with you not to say "Hey y'all look at me! I'm not as much of a mess as I used to be!" Because some days I truly am a hot mess. But I share these things with you to show you that life has infinite possibilities. If you had told me 10 years ago that I would be driving a minivan blaring kids movies and happily deciding to be a stay-at-home mom, I would have hopped in my Jeep with the top down and doors off and looked for the nearest detour as I blasted Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive". But there is only One who knows what your roapmap looks like a decade from now. So why not let Him take over and enjoy the view from the passenger seat? And buckle up. It can get bumpy. But this is just the ride. The destination is yet to come.