March 7 – Tempted

On Thursday mornings I go to Panera to eat breakfast and write a sermon. It’s a good spot for me to focus – relatively few distractions, fairly comfortable, unlimited coffee. Plus, there is a table right in front of the fireplace that is usually open. I can hardly believe no one else wants this cozy spot.

So, after I unload my computer bag and coat at the table, I go to the counter to order my breakfast. There, without fail, I encounter temptation: the glass pastry case full of assorted delights. 

It’s worse lately than it used to be, because they have added something new called the Brittany. This is a pretty little cupcake-size delight with a fat dollop of cream spiraling out of its top. How can I resist it?

It’s the prettiness along with the richness and sweetness it promises – such things get me every time.

It reminds me of my childhood visits to The Scanda House. This was a smorgasbord-style restaurant chain in the midwest, popular back in the 1960’s. If I ever had the chance to choose a restaurant to go to – like, for example, on my eighth birthday – I chose The Scanda House. I chose it for one reason: the big giant cream puffs.

Just looking at those things made my eyes get bigger, my mouth water, my whole eight-year-old body sort of rearrange itself at the mere thought of eating something so beautiful.

On that birthday visit, my mother let me have one.

Dear readers, I am here to tell you it wasn’t as splendid as it looked. And it was too much, leaving me feeling, well, not so good. I remember my mother’s words about this: “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach.” She was right, and she knew it even before I ordered it. For her, it was a moment of indulgence and, I guess, an opportunity for experiential learning.

Don’t you love the phrase, “Your eyes are bigger than your stomach?” what else could you say this about? Your wants are bigger than your budget. Bigger than your house. Bigger than the world’s capacity to absorb. You want more than you manage, more than the world can heal from.

There are so many pretty things to look at in the world. Somehow, we think we should possess them all. I get catalogs in the mail. I look at them and think, “That’s pretty. I want it.” I walk through the stores and say, “That’s pretty. I want it.” 

Food. Clothes. Cars. Furniture. Glassware.

Flowers. Birds. Sunrises.

How much can I, should I, possess?

Temptation, sometimes, is the desire to possess something that should simply be appreciated.

I wonder if I can look at the case full of pastries next time and simply admire them, without feeling that twinge of want. 

I will pay attention, next time. And when I feel something inside me pulling, like it’s trying to hook a Brittany on a fishing line and reel it in, I will try to let it go.

Let. It. Go.