In my cupboard, at this very moment, is an almost empty jar of coconut oil mixed with honey and cocoa powder. When I need something sweet, I grab a spoon.
It’s easy, it’s delicious, and it’s healthy (it’s also awesome on toast).
Last night, while licking said spoon and doing a happy dance alone in the kitchen, I giggled, “I am coconut oil!”
Let me back up.
All over the country, maybe right now at this very moment, wives of porn addicts are meeting for comraderie, comfort and advice. I used to be one of those women. One of the main purposes for meeting is to educate each other on why a man might choose something fake over something real (and I understand that women struggle with porn addiction, too, but I think the reasons behind that are a little different).
One of my favorite analogies is the steak versus the fast food hamburger. While most men would rather have a steak, they don’t know that one will be “hot and ready” for them when they walk through their front door. Stresses of life and the need for a quick fix (not to mention a scientifically proven chemical addiction to the quick fix) often drive them to the arms of the fast food burger. They know they’ll regret it and drive home sick. But, sadly, the urge is often too strong to resist (without Jesus).
No steak can compete with the ease of a fast food burger, though she has it beat in every other way. I mean, even burnt and a little fatty, it’s still better than drive-through. Still, I’ve watched wives mourn the absolute fact that they will simply never be as convenient as that danged burger.
Maybe that’s why it made me so incredibly happy, last night, when I felt the honest right to compare myself to my new favorite food.
I’m healthy, delicious, and yeah, I said it…I’m easy! There’s nothing better for him than me.