You know, a week long fast is a really difficult thing. Of course, most fasts are difficult. But I'm realising that the longer the fast the harder it is. We're well into Week 2 and I am just about sick to death of everything I'm allowed to eat. I ate three bites of hummus and pushed it away. I can't even look at falafel. I do still like fruit [thank you, Jesus!] and am actually willing to try a [gulp!] banana. I know. It's a big deal. I can see now that the Daniel fast is as much about remaining on a restricted diet as it is pushing through, pressing on, and perservering through two more entire weeks.
Two days into our second week [yesterday] I thought to myself, "Well, God really isn't speaking much to me anymore like He was last week." I mean, c'mon! Almost every day was some new revelation! I realised that He hadn't given me much the second week of the fast because He has infinite mercy on me. He knew that I would go to class last night and be physically struck with the truths and emotions I would face. I was a wreck, literally, and thought I would be one of the sobbing girls who threw up. It was heavy, man. God showed up like a Champion - MY Champion and put Himself in between me and all of that anger, hurt, and pain.
On the car ride home [all of 7 minutes] I was pretty much shouting to God. I can't do it anymore. I can't deal with the uncertainty! I can't deal with the overwhelming apathy in my family that is postponing things. I can't drive this train, I don't want to, and I'm simply out of strength completely. I can't fight God or man. I'm done, Lord. What will You do with me now? Please take care of my family. Lord, You told me that if I did what You said You would show me our path. My family need to begin our lives, Lord, and we ask for bread. We know you won't give us a stone.
Is anyone as tired as I am? I'm just ready for Jesus to come back. I can't live this life anymore, and need more of Him in it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment