The Jelly Belly Incident

There I was standing in front of a treasure of colors and flavors. The Jelly Belly wall of my local candy store. My eyes danced as I grabbed that little plastic bag adorned with the bright red jelly bean that was the Jelly Belly logo. There were also marks to assist in determining how much you would like to take home - 1/4 pound, 1/2 pound, 1 pound, etc. I told myself, "Self, you are only getting a quarter of a pound." I lied. The flavors seemed to be calling my name, cantaloupe, pink grapefruit, watermelon. . . they are all fruits, right?. . .then there was raspberry jam, root beer, cappuccino. . .the list goes on. I only got a "few" of each. When I was finally able to pull myself out of the Jelly Belly vortex, I discovered my "few" had grown to nearly a pound!

As I walked to my van, I opened my bag of sugary deliciousness with glee. Driving home as I was nibbling on my treasure of flavored jelly beans, I heard scientific data play through my head, "Sugar is as addictive as narcotics. It releases the same chemicals into the brain." Then it hit me like a cold glass of water thrown into my face. I was trying to avoid something. I was trying to find comfort in a bag of jelly beans - tasty jelly beans, my favorite jelly beans, but jelly beans none the less.

I was avoiding grief. In the past few months there has been altogether too much death in my world. First my husband's older brother. Then a family friend. Followed by my dear, sweet Granny. And then a mere 17 days later, my friend who battled cancer for over a decade took her last breath on this earth. Through all of this I have been unable to grieve. There has not been the time. So, instead I turned to what was easy and convenient - sugar. Easy and convenient but not life giving, not healing. If anything damaging to my physical body and mental well being.

So I ask, "Why?" Why sugar? Why not God?

Scripture says in 2 Corinthians 1:3-5 "Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ" (NIV).

God is my comfort, not inanimate jelly beans. God is real. God has grieved. God can and will comfort me. 

Grief must be felt. It must be expressed. It must have its way in me - changing me, molding me - hopefully for the better. That part depends on me. What or who I lean into as I grieve determines the level of comfort and healing I receive. Today, I made a poor choice. I chose momentary mood lift. What I want is comfort while in the pit with the assurance that I will see the light of day again. I want the abounding comfort found in Jesus Christ.