I love food. All kinds. I am grateful for the sweet, the spicy, the sour, and the rich, and I am even more grateful that I am not restricted to one.

If I were restricted to only sweet foods (which are my favorite), my heart would be tugged by the aroma of a wood-fired pizza or by seeing the remnants of fried rice stuck to my General Tso's chicken. It is a wonderful blessing to have the freedom to choose the flavor that my soul craves. However, I am afraid that this same luxury creeps into other aspects of my life as well.

With food, I deny my cravings most days, only because I have experienced the benefits of eating healthy, which far outweighed the times I had to deny myself of my desires. It is when I have no goal in mind that I eat according to my cravings and desires. I have nothing before me that I am in pursuit of, so I eat without purpose. I crave dessert after every meal, dismissing the signal my body gives me indicating that I'm full. The more I feed my appetite, the more it demands and the more familiar I become with that habit and lifestyle.

When I was training for competition, I had a goal. Every meal I ate was prepared days ahead of time, every portion weighed, and every meal timed to either fuel or replenish me. I missed special occasions and events, or I would bring my own food to them. If I felt like I couldn't go without eating something I shouldn't, then it wasn't even a question - I wasn't going to attend.

I am not promoting this kind of restrictive eating in the slightest, especially if you are not training to compete. However, I do promote such tunnel-vision discipline and self-denial in a Christian's relationship with the Lord. Having a goal and purpose is vital so that you do not find yourself thoughtlessly eating from the world's table. You will return to the table a moment later starving, and the longer you sit, the harder it is to get up.

To further this analogy...

When you attempt to leave the world's table, the host will insist that you stay, for the best is yet to come. Everyone else is staying, and they wouldn't understand your choice to leave. Everyone seems to genuinely enjoy the feast, and none are convicted to change the portions or the contents on their plates. If you compare your plate to the fellow across from you, then you affirm yours by what is on his plate. Now, you feel much better about your position at the world's table.

To better understand the analogy, I'll share a personal experience.

My dad was one of the least understanding individuals when it came to how I chose to live. He seemed disappointed with me, sometimes even angry that I didn't partake in the same things he did, but my vision kept me strong enough to continue in the direction I was headed.

My choice not to partake in the normal was offensive. It convicted others of their way of eating. That was not my intent, but they were looking at my plate in hopes of affirming what was on theirs. If I were looking at their plate to tell me what is acceptable, I would be justified in having the same contents as everyone else. Even more so, I'd be justified by doing the bare minimum to make my plate a little healthier than theirs. Making it a tad healthier allows me to trick myself into believing that I can and should be proud of my minimal sacrifice.

This is what we do as Christians.

Here's another example:

My sister in Christ, Sarah, seems to have no conviction about using social media, and she has no conviction about watching scandalous shows. I, then, can do the same and still claim I am chasing hard and fast after the Lord. Opposed to looking toward the lifestyle the majority isn't partaking in, I can compare my plate to Sarah's and justify my choices so that I won't have to sacrifice anything too grievous. We look around the table for a reason to stay seated, and it does just that: it keeps us sitting.

Christians know who we should be measuring ourselves against, and we know who deems a behavior justifiable - but we are too scared to measure up against Him because then we know we will have to leave our warm seat next to our friends.

If I compare my motives and doings with Sarah's, I am cleared to continue in my familiar way of living, but if I compare my motives and doings with Jesus, I am called to change and sacrifice that which I feel will be nearly impossible to part with.

Because I fear the pain of sacrifice, I seek only the depth of knowledge that is safe and sure to return with a refutable truth so that the ignorance crutch I am using will remain. I am fearful of gaining any knowledge that would call me to become more obedient because I tell myself, "Surely the Lord will not hold me accountable for my ignorance." I deceive myself by pretending I do not fully know the things that He has written on my heart. I tell myself, "If it is not on a billboard or a flashing sign, I cannot be 100% sure."

Out of fear of being called to do something hard, uncomfortable, or even nearly impossible, we blind ourselves to the truth. We flee silence out of fear that we may hear Him speak what we don't want to hear. We trick ourselves into believing our relationship is authentic because we've looked at our brother or sister in Christ and found we're doing as well as them (or a small percentage better). We checked off doing our devotion, which makes us feel accomplished, but in reality, that may be the only portion of our day in which we invite Him in.

We say we follow Him, but because we haven't dug deep enough to know what that means, our lives do not reflect it. We are "following Jesus," but we seem to be walking in the same direction as the world. It does not add up, and we are too careless to do the math because we fear what the solution may be.