Death can be quite motivating

We all at times wonder why we're here on earth.
In 1988 I was a stereotypical chef in every way. I smoked, drank, and generally treated my body as if it were indestructible. As we all age, we wake up and realize that's a bunch a malarkey. Then the cardiologist gave me days to live and admitted me into the hospital.
Resting heart rate 155, atrial fib, conjestive heart failure, 7 pounds of fluid surrounded my heart, and it had doubled in size from a microscopic virus.
It took The Universe to wallop me up-side the head with a Holy Two-By-Four to get my attention. "Wendell, I'm not done with you yet."
"Y-y-yes God,"
"I need to you quit your debauched ways and help correct America's eating habits."
I walked out of the hospital two weeks later completely healed. Not even scar tissue.
I employed visualization and in my mind's eye, had Pac Man eat the scar tissue off my heart
Who was I to question God? I began reading about how food affects our body as profoundly as a pharmaceutical drugs. The only problem is that our internal biochemistry only understands intelligent food provided to us by Nature. Not 'Dead' synthesized food from a squeaky industrial conveyor-belt. It's 100% about profit over the health of the citizenry with no regard for our children.
When we know something will harm our Earth Suit and we keep repeating the same destructive behavior, is it sinning and disrespecting our Creator? Like eating fried chicken cooked in pork fat? The perfect cardiovascular storm.