get a little greedy on Thanksgiving. After gobbling down turkey, mashed potatoes, yams, cranberries and a hot roll (or four) then going back for seconds, I wonder how I'll find room for pumpkin and pecan pie and my aunt's triple chocolate cake.

In my gluttonous misery, I roll away from the table, vowing never to eat so much again. But isn't overstuffing just a normal part of Thanksgiving? An invitation for the festive feeding of gluttons? Drifting into my post-feast nap, I hear the Lord convicting me that overeating - overdoing anything - simply isn't very becoming.

I'll admit it. The sweet temptations of overindulgence sometimes suck me in. Occasionally I sleep until noon. Sometimes I'll bake brownies, cut one out of the center, put it aside and eat the rest of the pan. Often I'll become so engrossed in a book that I'll find myself still awake at four o'clock in the morning. When I find something I like, I go with it. I really go with it.

But staying up all night reading gives me dark circles, sleeping ‘til noon gives me a headache and eating a pan of brownies gives me indigestion (and bigger thighs). A weary-eyed chunky woman with a bottle of aspirin in one hand and antacids in another isn't very pretty.

The apostle Paul tells us in Philippians 4:5 to "let your gentleness be evident to all." The word "gentleness" (from the Greek epieikes), is also translated "moderation" or "reasonableness." When we do things in moderation, we display a gentle and reasonable spirit.

While overindulgence might feel good for the time being, afterwards I feel anything but gentle and reasonable. So, sorry, Aunt Barb! I'm going to be moderate and pass on that cake.