A weekend prayer after fasting 14 days...
I'm coming to end of a 14-day fast. To say that it's been easy would be nonsense, but the rewards of doing hard things for good reasons cannot be overstated. To say 'no' to the Flesh and 'yes' to the Spirit is something that I don't think I've given enough priority in my life. I can say, "Nothing really dominates me, I'm not addicted to anything." BUT the truth is that small, subtle things continually exercise mastery over me...and that's the point of a fast, to see who's calling the shots and from whom you're taking your cues. When you take a break from food for any period of time, it separates the flesh and the spirit, and allows you to sense the difference between ordinary desires and inordinate affections, noise and sound so to speak.
I've done a few 7-day fasts before, but this one was stretching me as I considered it. I know it might seem silly, but I didn't really know if I could do it. Not in the sense that my body couldn't live without food, I knew factually that it could. And not in the sense that I would cave in if I decided to commit to this discipline, I knew I could overcome temptation. No, I'm talking about biologically and psychologically...I didn't know if I would be faint and get sick, or if my anxiety would spike through the roof and demand I abort. This wasn't at all legalistic, so I had no problem saying, "I'm going to listen to my body" during this time...it felt different that saying, "I'm going to listen to my flesh". If my body was telling me that something was dangerous or unhealthy, I had no problem merging of an exit and getting a bite to eat.
But if I sensed my flesh was messing with my mind and lying to me about my needs, wants, urges, and urgencies...well then and there I would pick up the sword and fight. I would fight until the flesh was subdued and under foot, pinned down by my heal, neck to the ground surrendering to my spirit. The strength of my spirit and the sufficiency of God's Spirit has been what I've wanted this to be about. Putting things in their rightful place. Food is good and has been given to us by God both for our survival and pleasure. So this isn't a denial of pleasure because it pleases God for me to suffer and deny myself enjoyments in some sort of penance to prove my love for him. If anything, it's been about showing myself what exercises dominion over my life more than I think, what unknowingly rules my life...no matter what I think does.
It's been interesting to see things emerge beyond the urge for food prompted by hunger. When you fast, all sorts of 'side-lovers' come knocking at your door. Your flesh negotiates after several days of realizing food is "off the table" and begins to negotiate with "tastes", transitioning obsessions with wondering how many different fluids you need to sustain you for 14 days, how many different tastes you can explore to satisfy your palette's countless cravings. So you wonder about water, gatorades, 5-hour energy shots, soft drinks, Monster drinks, coffees, shakes, milks (chocolate especially), hot chocolate, juices, mixed juices, protein drinks, teas, beers, wines, liquors, etc. (I can't tell you how my mind was flooded with fluid options to bait me into another "mastery match". Your flesh just exchanges the chess board for a checker board. It just shifts the "selfishness" to another playing field. At first, you don't see it, but because you're on a fast and you can discern flesh and spirit, it's easier to call it out earlier than you might typically. It was on day 4 that I noticed this trend and cut it off, dead in it's tracks.
Then my flesh wanted to just sleep then. If it couldn't have what it wanted in the world of eating and drinking, what was the point of being awake. Just sleep through as many of the 14 days as you can so that you don't have to wage ware in the moments that are seemingly going in 'slow motion'. But this is a copout, a way to cheat the process. What good would it be to say you're going to go on a fast and then ask a hospital to put you into a coma for 2 weeks? Rubbish. That's a shortcut to go around what you're called to face. The only way to get over it is to go through it. That became painfully clear and made me wonder how I do this in smaller ways--day in and day out--to cope. If there is micro-aggression, then there is micro-aversion, micro-affections, micro-distractions, micro-diversion, micro-addictions and so on. So this is what a fast roots out...at least attempts to.
This wasn't meant to be this sort of writing...I actually wanted to just say I was coming to the end of a 14-day fast and then write out a prayer coming into this weekend of church, but the words took on a life of their own...and I'm glad they did. So here is my prayer coming into this weekend...
"I am but a jar of clay, an earthen vessel, Lord. Let the all-surpassing glory of your presence that inhabits my heart be my portion and get the credit for all that transpires this weekend. My food is to do the will of him who sent me. You are my food, Lord. I only seek to do your will this weekend with a good and faithful heart. Enjoy watching your boy live out all that you've poured into him. You are my Father. Nothing gives me more pleasure than pleasing you. Amen."
I've done a few 7-day fasts before, but this one was stretching me as I considered it. I know it might seem silly, but I didn't really know if I could do it. Not in the sense that my body couldn't live without food, I knew factually that it could. And not in the sense that I would cave in if I decided to commit to this discipline, I knew I could overcome temptation. No, I'm talking about biologically and psychologically...I didn't know if I would be faint and get sick, or if my anxiety would spike through the roof and demand I abort. This wasn't at all legalistic, so I had no problem saying, "I'm going to listen to my body" during this time...it felt different that saying, "I'm going to listen to my flesh". If my body was telling me that something was dangerous or unhealthy, I had no problem merging of an exit and getting a bite to eat.
But if I sensed my flesh was messing with my mind and lying to me about my needs, wants, urges, and urgencies...well then and there I would pick up the sword and fight. I would fight until the flesh was subdued and under foot, pinned down by my heal, neck to the ground surrendering to my spirit. The strength of my spirit and the sufficiency of God's Spirit has been what I've wanted this to be about. Putting things in their rightful place. Food is good and has been given to us by God both for our survival and pleasure. So this isn't a denial of pleasure because it pleases God for me to suffer and deny myself enjoyments in some sort of penance to prove my love for him. If anything, it's been about showing myself what exercises dominion over my life more than I think, what unknowingly rules my life...no matter what I think does.
It's been interesting to see things emerge beyond the urge for food prompted by hunger. When you fast, all sorts of 'side-lovers' come knocking at your door. Your flesh negotiates after several days of realizing food is "off the table" and begins to negotiate with "tastes", transitioning obsessions with wondering how many different fluids you need to sustain you for 14 days, how many different tastes you can explore to satisfy your palette's countless cravings. So you wonder about water, gatorades, 5-hour energy shots, soft drinks, Monster drinks, coffees, shakes, milks (chocolate especially), hot chocolate, juices, mixed juices, protein drinks, teas, beers, wines, liquors, etc. (I can't tell you how my mind was flooded with fluid options to bait me into another "mastery match". Your flesh just exchanges the chess board for a checker board. It just shifts the "selfishness" to another playing field. At first, you don't see it, but because you're on a fast and you can discern flesh and spirit, it's easier to call it out earlier than you might typically. It was on day 4 that I noticed this trend and cut it off, dead in it's tracks.
Then my flesh wanted to just sleep then. If it couldn't have what it wanted in the world of eating and drinking, what was the point of being awake. Just sleep through as many of the 14 days as you can so that you don't have to wage ware in the moments that are seemingly going in 'slow motion'. But this is a copout, a way to cheat the process. What good would it be to say you're going to go on a fast and then ask a hospital to put you into a coma for 2 weeks? Rubbish. That's a shortcut to go around what you're called to face. The only way to get over it is to go through it. That became painfully clear and made me wonder how I do this in smaller ways--day in and day out--to cope. If there is micro-aggression, then there is micro-aversion, micro-affections, micro-distractions, micro-diversion, micro-addictions and so on. So this is what a fast roots out...at least attempts to.
This wasn't meant to be this sort of writing...I actually wanted to just say I was coming to the end of a 14-day fast and then write out a prayer coming into this weekend of church, but the words took on a life of their own...and I'm glad they did. So here is my prayer coming into this weekend...
"I am but a jar of clay, an earthen vessel, Lord. Let the all-surpassing glory of your presence that inhabits my heart be my portion and get the credit for all that transpires this weekend. My food is to do the will of him who sent me. You are my food, Lord. I only seek to do your will this weekend with a good and faithful heart. Enjoy watching your boy live out all that you've poured into him. You are my Father. Nothing gives me more pleasure than pleasing you. Amen."
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