I ate some really good Asian food yesterday. My friend, Linda, has family members in the restaurant biz, and her sister has a new restaurant in the Galleria. We ate there for a meeting with some friends from church and gorged on dumplings and rice and steak and pad thai.
I did my very best to be respectful and not eat every one of the dumplings we all shared at the table. It took major self-control. A bible verse about being in the presence of a king and eating too much kept running through my head...but I couldn't remember the exact order of the words or the context, but I knew it meant something about not eating more than everyone else at the table, or it would be better to cut off your hand or something.
Even the thought of my bloody hand at the table did not make those dumplings any less desirable. Over and over, I kept picking up my chopsticks, and then slowly kept sitting them back down as my mind wrestled.
In the end, I actually left a few. And I even left bites of dessert. Of course, those dumplings that got thrown away and the bits of chocolate wonderfulness we didn't eat still haunt me today, but I know that there will be more dumplings in my future. And the less dumplings I eat, the less I become a dumpling.
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