Bacon, Butter and Blue Bell

Food is my drug of choice.  One bite is too many and one thousand is not enough.  I am a food-a-holic that thinks the next bite will be better than the last…eventually I munch myself into a caloric stupor.  The next morning I awake from my carbohydrate coma promising to never eat again.  I recognize the fact that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth but it’s time to get rid of the spoon…knife and fork…push away from the dinner table and stop feeding myself.  Comfort food is not comfortable the next morning when I can’t button my pants.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.  I need a little help in the self-denial/will power department. 

  

Dear Lord Jesus,

It’s better with bacon

There is no mistakin’

A pat of butter will do

But it’s better with two.

Blue Bell is the best

When on pie it does rest

While it seems so strange

I know I must change.

I need some help

Can’t do it myself

It’s too hard for me

This I can see.

Take the spoon from my hand

This is the plan

Turn it over to You

This I must do.

Amen.