My plate was as full as my heart yet again this Thanksgiving. The difference was, my plate did not remain full. It emptied out. True, it filled up again, but that problem was rectified soon enough.
In my 50s, I’ve discovered this shovel-as-flatware approach to dining brings a different sort of fullness. And this one is not quite so satisfying. And it lingers longer, too.
Bloating is a problem when we get too much of a good thing. An excess of God’s blessings should strengthen us to help those less fortunate (1 Timothy 6:17-19). But instead of empowering us to do the necessary things of life, we are partially incapacitated. We become complacent, We act like the rich farmer in Jesus’ parable (Luke 12:17-19), so glutted with God’s blessings that he cannot find his way to thinking of anything else — let alone doing without.
I have two cures for bloating, and I’m not sure which one you will hate more.
The first is doing without. We can dispense our bounty quickly, before it becomes comfortable in our pockets; or we can simply not seek out as much as we usually do. Pray for “daily bread” (Matthew 6:11), and trust God to provide it.
The second is replacing our usual post-meal nap with some hefty exercise. By exerting ourselves feverishly in spiritual activity, we may find ourselves dwelling on true, just, pure and lovely things, a la Philippians 4:8, simply because we do not have the energy to do anything else.
Food for thought (pardon the expression).

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