The heavy five-gallon bucket stood before me like a troll, daring me to pass under this bridge alone.  The extra-tall walls of our living room, family room, office and bathroom seemed to plead with me, “Please…we are scratched, chipped, dented, and dark. Can’t you help us?” My past paint partners have moved on to have lives of their own. Now it was just the troll, the walls, and me and I knew this was going to take far longer than I wanted it to.
 
I tend to be a microwave woman. I want what I want when I want it. And in this case, I wanted to transform all of my walls from the 90’s browns and dark reds to a beautiful, light “Revere Pewter” with white trim…and I wanted it now. But the School of Hard Knocks has taught me that the things we most value in life aren’t made in microwaves. They are cooked long and slow. They take a process. They take time. For many years, I gritted my teeth through those processes, keeping the end goals in mind. But now, I wanted to see if I could actually choose to enjoy the process itself.
 
I don’t know how many of you have ever prayed over painting your house, but as I stared at the troll, I did. “Please help me enjoy the process of painting. Help me not be so anxious for the end result that I miss the pleasure of doing the actual painting.” I’m grateful to say, my prayers were answered.
 
As I looked for the pleasure of each moment, I discovered the thrill of seeing a patch of “90’s Brown” come to life as “Revere Pewter” began to take over. I loved seeing how it seemed to be a different color on each wall, as the light in the room played with my senses; I took pride as I cut a piece of trim with a nice, straight line; I listened to entertaining speakers, comedians, and music in my headphones; and something amazing happened: I was enjoying the process. I didn’t mind the time it took or the chaotic displacement of my furniture so much. I went to bed each night with sore muscles and a peaceful, content heart. And when the project was completed, I felt satisfied in a way that was different than the satisfaction I’ve gotten from the work of hired hands. My end result was actually better than those who were supposed to be “professionals”. Why? Because I cared about the final product. I took pride in, and was present in the process.
 
I have found the same lessons to apply in my own personal transformations. As I journey From Food to Faith I am learning to find peace in the process. Not only do I want the nutritious and delicious meals, I’m learning to take pleasure in chopping the foods and washing the dishes. Not only do I want to find myself at a healthy weight with a strong body, I’m learning to love the feel of lifting each weight, or the stretch of a tight muscle.
 
If we think that happiness is waiting at the end of a goal, we are fooling ourselves. As Geneen Roth says, who you are through the process is who you’ll be at the end of the process. If we don’t learn to find peace in the process of achieving our goals, we will not have peace when we find ourselves standing in the middle of them. If we don’t learn to find joy and peace in the processes that lead to our desired destination, my experience has taught me that we aren’t likely to stick with those processes enough to achieve or maintain those destinations!
 
Today I challenge you to notice the little things along the way that make you happy. Notice the beautiful designs of those vegetables you are chopping. Feel how alive your muscles feel as they move. Bathe in the calmness of letting limiting beliefs go. Then you will find joy now, not just at some future imagined moment. You will find happiness today, not just when your jeans fit again. You, my friend, will find peace in the process. 

​John was an awkward kid in my college psychology class. I felt bad for him and decided to say “hi” every day as I entered the room. Little did I know that one simple act would convince John that I was “the one” for him. He began buying me presents, sending anonymous flowers with invitations to join “my secret admirer” at darkened restaurants, and I did not know how to get rid of him. He scared me. When he stared me down for 4 hours at a reunion, I actually changed my phone number and installed a security system. I’m afraid that Jim never learned what a healthy relationship really is.
 
I used to think I loved food too much, seeing how I couldn’t stop obsessing about it, wanting it, eating it, or at a bare minimum, thinking about it. In reality, my former relationship with food was anything but love. It was less An Affair to Remember and more like Fatal Attraction. Real love is nurturing, kind, selfless and healthy. What I felt for food was destructive, consuming, and wavered between obsession and hatred. For many years, I was seldom hungry and often full. That didn’t always stop my need to keep eating. You see, I was always full, but I never satisfied.

What does it mean to be satisfied? Merriam-Webster tells us it means to be “pleased or content with what has been experienced or received.” When I binged on food, I was never satisfied. As the old saying goes, “one was too many and a thousands was never enough.” The minute I started, I could not stop until it was physically impossible to eat any more. Mentally, the beating never stopped.
 
Needless to say, I was very surprised to learn that satisfaction was such an important part of the process of developing a healthy relationship with food. So what does it take to be “pleased or content” with what our body actually needs?
 
​First, we have to be eating for the right reasons. No amount of food (or alcohol, or drugs, or overworking, etc.) will ever calm a troubled heart or mind. It can distract, but it will never bring peace. No amount of food can solve a problem, unless that problem is hunger.
 
Second, in order to find satisfaction with our eating experiences, we must become committed to honoring the God-given signals of our bodies: hunger and fullness. Getting overly hungry or overly full are both equally miserable. But there is a healthy range of hunger and fullness, and finding that range more consistently brings more satisfaction.
 
Third, choosing food we love is critical to our satisfaction levels. If you don’t love it, don’t eat it. If you eat it, savor it!
 
Fourth, our bodies love a large variety of foods. When we take our cues purely from our minds, we convince ourselves that what we really want are endless supplies of ice cream, cakes or cookies. When we learn to really listen to and honor our bodies, we soon discover that our bodies are crying out for a large variety of foods. Study after study shows that when we eat the same things over and over, our satisfaction goes down.
 
Learning to find satisfaction is one of the great joys of learning to be an intuitive eater. In fact, it is one of the great joys of life. The first time I realized I didn’t want to finish my dessert was nothing short of miraculous. I had finally experienced for myself what it means to actually be satisfied with food.
 
Now, when I’m faced with the choice of being full or satisfied, I realize that it’s like the choice between an obsessive relationship, with its illusions of happiness and connection, verses the quiet, calm, steady, secure relationship of true love.  It took a long time to recognize it…to value it…and to realize that I deserved it, but now I know that being full can never hold a candle to the experience of being satisfied.