2 Corinthians 12:9 – The Christian Tech-Nerd

Tonight, I had to sit down and pour my heart out because this battle with overindulgence has been quietly gnawing at the edges of my faith. And honestly, I’m sick of pretending that it’s not affecting me. Whether it’s food, social media, endless scrolling, or just chasing the next little high—I’ve let too many earthly things take up space in my soul where only You belong.

Overindulgence isn’t just about excess; it’s about idolatry. That’s what You’ve been pressing on my heart lately. It’s not just me failing to “have discipline.” It’s me turning to broken cisterns that hold no water (Jeremiah 2:13) when You, the fountain of living water, are right here. I’ve made small gods out of comfort, distraction, and instant gratification.

And yet… You still pursue me.

“No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.”
– 1 Corinthians 10:13

That verse hits me different now. You don’t abandon me in the temptation—you make escape routes. But am I taking them? Or am I choosing to sit in the flame because I like the warmth, even though I know it’s burning me?

Lord, You know my heart. You know that when I reach for more food, more comfort, more scrolling—what I’m really reaching for is peace, joy, control… something to numb the ache. But only You satisfy.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.”
– Matthew 5:6

I want to be filled with righteousness, not with stuff. Not with momentary pleasures. Not with counterfeit comforts. The more I stuff myself with the world, the emptier I feel. You didn’t design me to live like this.

You are my portion.
You are my peace.
You are more than enough.

I remember when Jesus was in the wilderness. Satan tempted Him with all the world’s comforts, and Jesus didn’t negotiate or reason—He responded with the Word. That’s where I need to go back. Scripture isn’t just knowledge, it’s weaponry.

“It is written: Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
– Matthew 4:4

(CLICK THE PLAY BUTTON TO PRAY WITH ME)

I’ve been living on bread alone—on dopamine hits and empty calories of worldly joy. But I crave the Bread of Life. Jesus, You are that Bread.

Holy Spirit, help me walk by You, not by the flesh. Galatians 5:16 says if I do that, I won’t gratify the desires of the flesh. It’s not just about saying “no” to the temptation—it’s about saying a louder, more wholehearted “YES” to You. I can’t white-knuckle my way out of this. I need transformation from the inside out.

Lord, expose the lies I believe. The lie that I need “just one more bite,” or “just one more episode,” or “just a little retail therapy.” Rip the mask off of every false savior in my life. I want to see it for what it is—a thief of joy, a robber of peace.

And You… You are the Good Shepherd who restores my soul.
You don’t shame me. You sanctify me.

You say:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
– 2 Corinthians 12:9

That means I don’t have to fake strength I don’t have. I can bring You the mess, the cravings, the cycle of overdoing it and regretting it. I can confess it—not as someone who’s defeated—but as someone who knows victory is coming, not because of me, but because of Christ in me.

Father, teach me contentment. Teach me to be grateful for the portion You give. Gratitude is such a weapon—it disarms the discontentment that fuels my overindulgence. When I thank You for what I have, I stop obsessing over what I think I lack.

“Give us this day our daily bread…”
Not tomorrow’s, not next week’s, not Costco-sized spirituality. Daily. You want me to trust You one day at a time, and that’s enough.

Also, thank You for the people You’ve placed in my life who love me enough to hold me accountable. You never meant for me to walk through temptation alone. Community isn’t optional—it’s essential. Whether it’s through prayer, confession, or just checking in, I’m reminded that the enemy thrives in isolation, but dies in the light.

Tonight, I’m choosing to step into that light.

How to Resist the Temptation of Overindulgence (With God’s Help)

1. Recognize the Root

Overindulgence isn’t just bad behavior—it’s misplaced belief.

“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”
— Matthew 6:21

I need to ask: What am I really craving? Is it comfort? Validation? Control? Peace? Once I recognize that the “thing” isn’t the real issue, I can begin to let Jesus meet the real need.

2. Pray Immediately and Intentionally

When temptation rises, I’m learning to stop and pray—even if it’s a whisper:

“Father, lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from evil” (Matthew 6:13).

Temptation thrives in silence. But when I bring God into the moment, the grip starts to loosen. He doesn’t expect me to be perfect—He wants me to be dependent.

3. Use Scripture as a Weapon

When Jesus was tempted, He didn’t argue—He quoted truth.

“It is written…” —Matthew 4:4

Here’s what I’m memorizing now:

“No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Psalm 84:11)
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1)
“Walk by the Spirit and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh” (Galatians 5:16)

These verses are my ammo when I feel weak. They remind me that I lack nothing in Christ.

4. Practice Mindfulness

Sometimes I give in without thinking. But now I pause and ask:

What triggered this?
What am I feeling?
What lie am I believing?

I’ve started slowing down—especially when eating, scrolling, or shopping. When I move slower, I see clearer. I’m not meant to numb myself with noise but to notice what God’s already doing.

“Be still and know that I am God.” —Psalm 46:10

5. Establish Boundaries

I deleted a few apps today. Not because I’m “so spiritual,” but because I’m so easily distracted. I’ve created boundaries around meals, screen time, and spending.

Because honestly, why fight temptation on its turf when I can just flee?

“Flee from youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace…” —2 Timothy 2:22

6. Distract with Purpose

When a craving hits, I redirect it with intentional action:

Go on a walk and pray.
Read a Psalm aloud.
Text a godly friend.
Put on worship music and sing (even badly).

Distraction isn’t bad when it leads me to the One who actually satisfies.

7. Visualize Success in Christ

I don’t have to be a slave to “I can’t help myself.” That’s not my story anymore.

“You are not your own, for you were bought with a price.” —1 Corinthians 6:19–20

When I visualize myself resisting temptation—by God’s grace—I’m reminding myself that victory is possible. Not because of me, but because the Holy Spirit lives in me.

8. Seek Accountability

I confessed to a sister in Christ today. I told her about the areas I’m struggling with, and she didn’t judge me—she prayed with me.

Overindulgence thrives in secret. But confession brings healing.

“Confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed.” —James 5:16

9. Get Rest

Overindulgence creeps in when I’m tired, burned out, and empty. Jesus Himself rested. So who am I to try to live without it?

“Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” —Matthew 11:28

When I rest in Him, I don’t need to reach for false comforts. I’m filled already.

10. Cultivate Gratitude Daily

Gratitude isn’t fluff—it’s spiritual warfare.

“Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” —1 Thessalonians 5:18

I’ve started writing down 3 things I’m thankful for each day. It’s harder to crave more when I realize I already have so much in Christ.

God, I surrender my cravings to You. I lay down every place in my heart that I’ve tried to fill without You. Heal the root, not just the symptoms. Cleanse my heart, renew my mind, and help me find true satisfaction in You alone. Teach me to recognize temptation for what it is—and give me the strength and desire to flee from it.

Father, I confess my need for You. I’m not strong on my own. But with You, I have victory. With You, I can walk in freedom. Let my life glorify You, not my own pleasure.

Help me, Lord, to live in step with Your Spirit. Help me say no to what harms me, and yes to what brings You glory. In Jesus’ name, amen.

One step at a time. One prayer at a time. I will not be defined by my struggles—I will be refined by God’s strength.

Jesus didn’t die so I could live in bondage. He died so I could live in freedom.

And I choose that freedom—today and every day after.

Tonight, my heart is full—raw but full. I sat alone in my room, lights low, music off, and just stared at the ceiling with tears quietly slipping down the side of my face. Not because I felt sorry for myself, but because I realized how close I came to giving up… again.

Giving up on me.

(CLICK HERE TO PRAY WITH ME)

I don’t always say this out loud, but I’ve spent a good portion of this year silently fighting battles no one could see. And what’s worse? I almost believed the lie that I didn’t have it in me to keep going. Almost. But tonight, I got reminded—Grace doesn’t run out. God’s grace lifts.

You know, I’ve been reading 2 Corinthians 12:9 again and again.

“And He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.’”

I used to quote that like a bumper sticker when things got hard. But now, I feel it. My weaknesses have exposed me this season. My pride took some hits. My plans didn’t unfold the way I pictured. I lost people. I lost energy. At times, I lost the will to show up as the woman God created me to be.

But I didn’t lose God.

He met me right here—in my mess, my mid-breakdown, my almost-quit point. And He lifted me. Not because I deserved it, but because His grace doesn’t function like man’s approval. His grace is an extension of His love, not my performance.

The enemy has been whispering to me that I’m too behind, too flawed, too tired, too everything. But you know what? I’m calling that out. I’m confronting that lie with some real truth. Because the Word says:

“The righteous may fall seven times, but still get up.” – Proverbs 24:16

That’s ME. I fell. But I got back up. And I’m getting back up again. I’m not done, and I refuse to be counted out just because things didn’t go smoothly.

Let me be real. We talk a lot about fighting spiritual battles—but sometimes the real war is just getting out of bed with purpose, smiling when life feels like it’s in pieces, and choosing to believe that God’s not done with your story. That’s warfare too.

I want to speak directly to the old me and maybe someone reading this one day: Stop treating yourself like a side character in your own life. God didn’t send His Son so you could live in survival mode forever. No. He came to give you life and life more abundantly (John 10:10).

So when you feel like quitting, remind yourself: “You are worth the effort it takes to get to your expected end.” You are worth the fight it takes to stop settling for mediocre just because it’s familiar. Even now—especially now—there’s still hope for you.

Tonight, I prayed differently. Not out of desperation, but out of declaration. I didn’t come to God broken down and hopeless. I came to Him like a daughter who knows her Father loves her too much to let her drown in disappointment.

Here’s what I prayed:

Father, thank You. Thank You for not letting me give up when everything in me screamed to quit. I lift up every person who feels buried under the weight of discouragement, defeat, and silent pain. I pray for the one who can barely open their Bible right now. For the one crying themselves to sleep. For the one who’s surrounded by people but still feels alone.

Lord, Your Word says that Your grace is sufficient. I ask You to make that grace tangible tonight. Wrap them in it like a warm blanket. Let it silence the accusations. Let it bring clarity where confusion reigns. Let it soften the heart that’s gone numb from pain.

Heal their wounded places. Speak peace to their inner storms. Remind them they were never meant to carry it all alone.

Let them see that even in this—You are working all things for their good (Romans 8:28). Help them rise, not in their own strength, but in Yours.

In Jesus’ name, Amen.

(PLEASE PRAY WITH ME BY CLICKING HERE)

I guess what I’m learning is this: Rising again doesn’t mean the fall didn’t hurt. It means you’re stronger than what tried to break you. And God? He’s still writing your story. You’re not disqualified just because it didn’t happen the way you expected.

Let’s not be the kind of Christians who only testify once we’ve “made it.” Let’s be the ones who share even while we’re still climbing. Because someone needs to know that faith isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s whispered through tears at 2 AM when you choose not to give up.

That’s where I am.
Not perfect.
But still standing.
Still believing.
Still rising—with the grace that lifts.

And I believe that’s enough.

Tag: 2 Corinthians 12:9

Feasting Without Fulfillment: Battling the Temptation of Overindulgence