When I was a child, my mother had a rule. No matter what was placed on the table before you, you had to take one bite. No refusing anything. No turning your nose up at it without first trying. You didn't have to like it. You just had to try it. One bite. That's all. One sizable bite that met her size requirements, taken into your mouth under her watchful eye.
However, there was an aspect of the one-bite rule that I still find disturbing. It didn't matter that a food had been tried and found wanting in the past. If that same food was presented at another meal at a later date, it still must be tried again. And so as a child I suffered through a litany of culinary delights and disappointments all imbibed one single bite at a time.
But out of all my mother cooked, nothing was as horrific or terrible as the image of boiled okra gracing the family dinner table at our evening meal. For those from more northern climates who are unfamiliar with okra, this is a southern food termed by some a "delicacy," especially when served deep fried with a light batter crusting. But none of that for us. No fried okra ever graced our table to my memory. It was always boiled, slimy okra. Sitting on my plate, growing larger by the minute, staring me in the eye and daring me to eat it.
And eat it, I did. Just one bite. No more. No less. But, oh what a chore that bite was. Sometimes hours would pass before I could will myself to open my mouth and swallow one bite of boiled okra, washed down by a gallon of sweet tea just to remove the taste. But when it was over -- when the one-bite had been accomplished -- I could never rest easy in victory because I knew, I just knew, it would not be long before that boiled okra appeared again. My worst enemy. Back to battle me again.
Now, it's important that you know I am a discerning culinary patron. In other words I am picky. I am now and have always been so. And knowing this, and knowing that taste buds change as one matures, my mother wisely implemented her one-bite rule for me and my sister at our family dinner tables. And thankfully so, because despite my boldest objections and worst, scrunched up face at the initial taste of sauteed squash and steamed broccoli, these have turned out to be two of my most favorite foods. Foods which I might not even try today if not for the one-bite rule.
But, to this day, I will not and cannot eat boiled okra. Just the sight of boiled okra is enough to trigger my gag reflex. Merely typing this and having to write the word okra over and over again is enough to turn my stomach. Okra is one of the few foods I refuse to allow near my plate. When presented with this at a restaurant or a church pot-luck, my answer is always the same: "I don't eat boiled okra." And I haven't. Not since I was old enough to leave home and the one-bite rule behind. I don't even think of okra if I can help it. But all that changed this week.
You see, I was riding along on my way to work, praying to God and asking for His grace in obedience to His commands. You know, as well as I, that none of us are where we need to be spiritually. Despite the fact we have been forgiven of our sins on the cross of Calvary by the precious blood of Christ, we all still choose to sin on a daily basis, and for many of us, there is one or two sins that are particularly besetting, our "thorns in the flesh," if you will. These sins have become bad habits for us, and even though we try to turn away from them, we find ourselves choosing to give in to temptation and sinning against God in the same way over and over again.
This past week was a week that happened to me, and as I rode along confessing and repenting of my sin and asking God to keep me from stumbling again, an image appeared in my mind. No, the heavens did not open as they did for John on the island of Patmos. Nor did I see Christ in a bright light as Paul on the road to Damascus. I didn't even see fiery chariots or images of spectacular beasts rising from the sea. No, I saw, just as clear as day, a bowl of boiled, slimy okra.
That's right. Okra. Boiled, slimy, gag-inducing okra. And I said, "God, what is this? How does this help? How is this an answer to prayer?" Surely God wasn't suggesting I partake of a bowl of this boiled okra as a means of self-flagellation and punishment for my sin. But gently, God showed me what this meant.
First, He pointed out the way I feel about okra is the way He feels about sin. Just as repulsive as okra is to me, sin is to Him. Just as the mere thought of okra turned my stomach and made me want to throw up, this was how God saw sin in my life. And I thought, "Wow!" I never thought of it like that before. Before sin was just something I dealt with on my own. I knew it was wrong. I knew God didn't want us to do it. But I never thought about how He viewed it. It changed my impression of sin. Every time I sinned, I was placing a big bowl of slimy boiled okra in front of my loving God and Savior and telling Him to eat it even though He hated it and always would.
Secondly, God pointed out to me that sin in my life could be dealt with in the same way okra was. Too often I would blame my propensity to sin on my human nature. "It's just the way I am. I'm not perfect. I'm not God. I can't help but sin. Everyone sins. It's part of being a human." However, in 1 John 2:1, John tells us that he is writing this epistle "so that you will not sin." Do you see what he's saying? Sin is a choice. We can choose not to sin if we follow God's word. God will never give us more than we can bear, and when we are tempted He will always make a way out for us. We don't have to give in to sin. We don't have to sin. We can choose to say no.
But, I told God, I can't say no. I'm just not able to. I'm not strong enough. I can't do it. I have to sin. It's just my nature. And God showed me the okra again and reminded me of something I had forgotten. I have not tasted a bite of boiled, slimy okra since I was 18 years old. For 30 years I have avoided okra like the plague. For 30 years, I have looked okra in the eye and said, "No! I will not eat you!" And God said, "If you can do that for okra, why can't you do that for Me? Why can't you look your sin in the eye and just say 'No?'"
Huh. I had never thought of that before. I had always approached sin as if I was the victim. Sin was the aggressor. Sin was defeating me. Sin would always win. But okra...now that was a different story. I was the aggressor. I had defeated okra. I always won. What if I started of looking at my sin like it was a bowl of boiled, slimy okra? What if, instead of saying, "I give up. I'm not strong enough," I started saying, "I don't do that sin any more. Not even one bite. I'm an adult. I'm mature in Christ and the victory has been won. I don't have to eat that sin any more. I am an overcomer."
So, I'm starting to play the association game with sin. When I am tempted to give in to that same old bad habit that has been dogging me for years, I'm going to think about it like it was a bowl of boiled, slimy okra. And I'm going to apply the same principle to this sin that I apply to okra, just with the power of the Holy Spirit behind me. I'll let you know how it works. In the meantime, why don't you try this too? Think of the one thing that just totally disgusts and repels you, and begin to associate it with that sinful bad habit in your life and see how it works for you. And, be sure and let me know. I'll be praying for you.
Pastor Greg
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