Onion Ring

“Those look yummy. Are they good here?” The woman in line asked as I picked up my order of onion rings. 

“Yes, they are really good,” I smiled back at her. I sat down with my hot A&W parcel, excited to take that first bite of crunchy, fried onion. 

The woman in line got her order and sat at a table across from me. I saw her open her bag as excitedly as I had mine. Maybe she got the onion rings, too.

As she bit into something delicious, I recognized her anticipation and enjoyment. Her body seemed to sigh and relax. She ate, slouched and comforted. 

A few rings in, and after a lot of staring at my fellow fried-food-loving friend, I felt an irritating sense that I was prostrating myself on the hills, making love to other gods, like an ancient Israelite. Oh, dang. 

It wasn’t the onion ring’s fault. The next day, I was at it again. 

This time, instead of comfort, I wanted to accomplish the best things and win the award for greatest Language Learner, Mom, and Cultured Reader. With animal-like relentlessness, I started with Hindi, but couldn’t get over the pile of dishes at the sink. I went to do dishes and half-way through felt I was wasting precious alone time when I could be in a good book. I propped my feet up and read Mansfield Park for six whole minutes, until I remembered the move ahead. I put down my book and reached for the flash cards. 

I can get away with these idolatries, because they are commonplace and unoffensive. I’m not obese, so I can hide the way I emotionally gobble up fast food at times. The frantic triathlon of events during naptime can be excused away because of the demands of my five kids and moving overseas in a week. Who wouldn’t operate like a tornado under such circumstances? 

The catch is that these idols of comfort and accomplishment are staircases to nowhere. Instead of looking for relief from myself or this world, I am to lament to my Father. 

Lamentations has been a good teacher on how to face the Lord and speak candidly. The author was going through the worst of times. Israel’s land, temple, and King were gone. They were either being led away as slaves to Babylon or left to starve to death. The survivors did unspeakable things. Life apart from God is not pretty and lament is absolutely necessary.

While my sufferings are not as dark, they are real. And for me to face. If I do so alone, it will be the death of me. If I run to other gods, I’ll be made as worthless as them (Psalm 115:8). 

The question that keeps coming to mind is this: If I’m not lamenting in the way God designed me to, what am I doing? Well, I’m eating onion rings and working like an ostrich.

I don’t have to stay there. The author of Lamentations shows a better way. 

After chapters of complaints and obvious confusion, the author “calls to mind” the goodness of God. In the horror of his circumstances and despair, he says:

“But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in Him.’” Lam. 3:21-24

For a verse that is usually stenciled on bathroom walls, this one has grit. With the Lord, in the very same breath, I can safely tell him my darkest secrets, sourest sufferings, and what I know to be true about Him. 

I will be carrying this verse in my pocket as I board the plane next week. With those who have lamented before me, I will call to mind the steadfast love of the Lord and hope in Him. And the next time I’m at A&W, I will enjoy that onion ring for what it is. A delicious treat. Nothing more.