Spiritual Nutrition

What Are You Really Feeding On?

There's something profound about the connection between physical hunger and spiritual longing. Just as our bodies crave sustenance, our souls desperately need nourishment—especially during life's most challenging seasons. But here's the uncomfortable truth: much of what we reach for when we're spiritually hungry is the equivalent of spiritual junk food.

The Cortisol Effect

When stress floods our lives, our bodies respond with cortisol—a hormone designed by God to help us through moments of crisis. It sharpens our thinking, gives us energy, and helps us survive immediate threats. But when stress becomes chronic, when trials extend beyond days into weeks and months, something shifts. That same helpful hormone begins to change our appetites.

Suddenly, we're not reaching for what nourishes us. We're grabbing whatever provides immediate relief. In the grocery store, exhausted and overwhelmed, we don't crave apples or salads. We want chips, cookies, ice cream—foods engineered to trigger an instant dopamine response but leave us depleted in the long run.

The same pattern plays out spiritually. When life gets hard, when suffering stretches on, we reach for quick emotional fixes instead of what truly sustains us.

The Spiritual Junk Food Aisle

First Peter 2:1 presents a sobering list of spiritual vices we're called to eliminate: malice, deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander. These aren't random sins—they're the precise things we're tempted to consume when we're hurting.

Malice shows up as meanness. When we're in pain, being mean feels good for a moment. We're hurting, so we want others to hurt too. It satisfies an immediate craving but tears away at the unity and love within Christian community.

Deceit and hypocrisy involve dishonesty with intent to deceive and putting on masks that hide our true selves. We pretend to be someone we're not, hoping the facade will ease our pain. But falsehood erodes trust and causes love to grow cold.

Envy makes us resent others for what they have—or what we perceive they have. We look at someone's seemingly easy life, their influence, their spiritual maturity, and we want it now. We don't see the hard work behind their fruit; we just covet the harvest. Envy becomes a root of bitterness leading to grudges, hatred, and conflict.

Slander involves defaming another's character through gossip and backbiting. Interestingly, the noun form of this word is actually a title for the devil himself—"the slanderer of the brethren." When we're suffering, we're tempted to blame others wrongfully for our pain, to credit them with the evil that has befallen us.

These vices are spiritual junk food. They provide momentary satisfaction but leave us malnourished, starving, and weak. In the long run, they make everything worse.

Craving What We Actually Need

The antidote appears in 1 Peter 2:2-3: "Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation—if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good."

Notice the metaphor. Newborn babies have one desire: milk. They don't crave steak or solid food. They long for the only thing they actually need. Their appetite is perfectly aligned with their need.

That's the spiritual posture we're called to adopt—not as a sign of immaturity, but as a commendation. We should crave God's Word the way an infant craves milk, with singular focus and desperate hunger.

The "pure spiritual milk" Peter describes is qualified by two important words. "Pure" means unadulterated, uncontaminated—free of additives and preservatives. In trendy nutritional language, it means eating clean. "Spiritual" translates the Greek word *logikos*, connected to *logos*—the Word. This milk that sustains us is nothing other than the Word of God itself.

We're not merely informed by Scripture. We're sustained by it. We live by it, like the bread from heaven God gave Israel in the wilderness.

The Nutrition Comparison

Consider the difference between a bag of cookies and a bag of apples. Two cookies contain 140 calories. Most of us can demolish an entire package—two sleeves—in one sitting, consuming nearly a day's worth of calories without feeling satisfied. But one apple? That's a serving. When was the last time you sat down and ate an entire bag of apples? Never. Because apples are nutritionally dense. They actually satisfy and sustain us.

The same principle applies spiritually. We can binge on worldly distractions, entertainment, news, blame, and bitterness—consuming massive amounts of spiritual junk without ever feeling truly nourished. Or we can feast on God's Word, which satisfies deeply and produces genuine spiritual health.

The Promise

Here's where Scripture gives us something rare—an almost formulaic promise: If you put away the junk, if you abandon what belonged to your former life, if you long for and crave the Word of God, you are promised a certain level of spiritual health.

This doesn't mean your trial will disappear or everything will be perfect. It means your attitude will be better. You'll be spiritually healthier. You'll experience joy and God's blessing even in the midst of suffering, heartache, and pain.

Jesus himself modeled this truth. After fasting forty days in the wilderness, when Satan tempted him to turn stones into bread and satisfy his immediate hunger, Jesus responded with Deuteronomy 8:3: "Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God."

Winning the Morning

The challenge becomes clear: When tempted to soothe present suffering with a quick fix, we must resist convenience and immediate gratification. Our chief concern cannot be feeling better right now. We must ask: Will this thing sustain me and help me endure this trial?

If the answer is no or uncertain, throw it out. It's junk food.

Then build real spiritual discipline into your life. Win the morning. Get up and be selfish for a few minutes—not in a sinful way, but in meeting your own spiritual need first. Consume God's Word. Commune with Him in prayer. Tend to your spiritual health.

That way, the rest of the day, you can give yourself away. You can be selfless. You can shoulder whatever weight comes because you've taken on the mantle of Christ, and his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

You cannot live by bread alone—not through the holidays with difficult family dynamics, not while waiting on news from the doctor, not while mourning loss, not while wondering how you'll survive your current circumstances.

But you can endure, sustained and strengthened by every word that comes from God's mouth.

What are you feeding on today?