Adventures in Fasting

Until recently, fasting never struck me as a serious discipline in the pursuit of God.  Sure, I know Jesus did it, but really, a 40-day fast seems a bit unobtainable for us mortals, doesn't it?  

But I have watched others as they have embarked upon fasts, some of a very short duration, some that were so loose in what was being given up that they resembled Lent more than an actual fast, and others that blew my mind in the devotion obviously at play.  A few years ago, Preston fasted for a number of days, and I felt enormously relieved that I was nursing a baby at the time and was therefore ineligible to join the madness.

Then we participated in a Sunday School group that was reading The Quest: A Ten-Week Journey Into Radical Discipleship, by Chuck Quinley.  Chapter Five, to my great dismay, was on fasting.  Fasting in secret, no less.  For 24 hours.

I blithely said, "No problem."  The previous chapters had affected me in a powerful way as I struggled and then chose to obey each directive.  This would be tough, I knew.  Though Preston and I would be fasting, I would still have to feed the children, and would be at their whim through the duration, thus limiting any distracting activities I could dream up.  We picked a day when I would be able to stay home, and not be driving young children around while delirious, and vowed to do it together.  No sweat.  All a part of getting to know God better.  Totally worth it.

Then I saw that caffeine was verboten during this fast, and I started thinking evil thoughts.  No coffee?  This was gonna suck.

And it DID suck.  I rarely made it into a fully prone position all that day, and drank something like 24 cups of decaf herbal tea (the one allowance given by the book, other than water).  Preston called mid-morning to see how I was doing, and I vented a long list of grievances, beginning with, "All these kids do is eat," and ending with, "This isn't getting me closer to God AT ALL."

I tried to pray throughout the day (half-heartedly), but each prayer kind of fizzled out a sentence in as I struggled to concentrate.  I thought about focusing on a particular need to pray for, but got too grumped to do anything about it.

The only thing I learned was that coffee is a necessary part of my relationship with God.  Inspiring, huh?

Many months later though, I had an entirely different experience.  During an extended time of great upheaval and difficulty for a loved one, I began to finally learn how to pray for others, (fairly) consistently and with (newly discovered, and very limited) compassion.  This was a big step for me - focusing on a long-term basis on others' needs rather than my own, and my understanding of God began to clarify through this (new to me) desire to intercede for another.  Then, early one morning in which I knew a pivotal event would be occurring for these loved ones, I decided I would try to pray often and much during the following five or so hours as I awaited word on the outcome.  As I prayed my initial prayer, which sounded a little like, "Um, God, please make this happen for [them]...," I felt the need to fast.

It was jarring.  And besides, I was already drinking my second cup of coffee.  How could I possibly fast?  But then it occurred to me that fasting can take many forms, and when I brought it up to Preston, that I was planning to fast all morning from food, but would drink coffee, he said he thought God would probably nudge me and let me know if He disapproved of the drinking-black-coffee-while-fasting thing.

A whole new world opened up that day.  The caffeine made me human, but the hunger from lack of food gave me a sort of an edge as the morning wore on, reminding me with every hunger pang that I was to be praying (rather than getting caught up in my routine of busyness and forgetting all about the plan to pray - as so often happens for me).

I learned two things during this fast: that hunger brings the time of prayer into a sharp focus (along with a reminder to rely on God to meet our daily needs), and that praying for others, for God's will to be done in their lives, is far more edifying and productive than just praying for my own needs to be met.

I also learned that I have a long, terrifying road ahead of me if I am ever to truly conquer this self-absorption issue.  One morning of fasting for another does not a saint make.