They say duct tape fixes everything
It’s a versatile, simple, and quick
My car’s side mirror was coming off
It was either going to be hundreds spent
At the mechanic
Or three firm wraps around with the duct tape
Right in my own garage
Problem solved.
If I continued this logic throughout the house
Imagine where I’d end up:
Leaky sink? Taped pipe.
Rip in the couch? Sealed with shiny gray.
Toys, walls, furniture, holes in the wall
I need look no further
Than my sturdy, handy roll of tape.
For the moment, it works
The problems get addressed
Kind of.
Over time, though, the tape shows its limits.
Besides looking terrible,
It wears out, or, in most cases,
It never addressed the real issue.
I don’t want to live in a duct taped house.
That sounds very tenuous.
Yet, this is what I’ve been doing my whole life with food.
Food has been my duct tape.
Whatever comes my way, I’ve tried to fix it with food.
Boredom? Eat something to perk up.
Overstimulated? Eat something to calm down.
Too sad? Food will comfort.
Happy? Celebrate with special foods!
Even this one: feeling like I’m trapped in a negative cycle with food?
Eat again, because I give up trying to make it better!
As I’m gaining freedom from addictive eating,
I’m faced with a leaky pipe and no duct tape.
Each day presents various life events I’ve always navigated with food.
I stand, looking at the pipe, with a new tool – a wrench, let’s say.
In theory, I know what a wrench does,
But I’m so used to using duct tape that a wrench feels weird and clumsy.
Am I going to have to disassemble the pipe and see what’s in there?
Maybe.
Am I going to have to sit in uncomfortable feelings and allow
Tough things to exist?
Probably.
Right now, this feels like a lot of work.
I’m not good with a wrench – or, with being present to life.
But I don’t want to live in a duct taped house anymore.
I want to be a church, a beautiful vessel of the Holy Spirit,
Fully and truly functioning
A testament to His care and love
Ready to be used
Not patched and ready to burst.
