Ten days ago I set out to walk in the wilderness with Jesus. I intended to join Him through 40 days of prayer and fasting, as He had at the beginning of His ministry, and leave behind my wilderness of depression; pursuing peace and rest with Him. (I want to note that I am also pursuing medical treatment and counseling for my depression - while I believe Jesus is the author of peace and rest, He also equips people with counseling skills and doctors that can help care for people in need.)
My fast was to have no solid food (including milkshakes or smoothies) before 5 pm each day. The goal was to have my hunger point me to being fulfilled in Christ instead of food. I wanted to see Him as having everything I need, instead of trusting in my own ability (or sugary carbs) to make me feel complete. My emptiness was not a condition of my stomach, but my soul and through prayer and contemplation I wanted to experience neediness in a way that would not be cured by my own hand.
After successfully completing a quarter of the fast, I wanted to reflect on my experience and I have noticed a few interesting things. First, your body can very quickly adjust to not eating. After only a few days, the lethargy, stomach cramps and crankiness went away. I was able to drink coffee and water and broth until 5pm without too much difficulty. Actually, the hardest part was smelling the bacon my husband fried up for his breakfast every morning!
For ten days I waited until 5pm on the dot, in spite of Christmas festivities and special activities. I could make a special breakfast for my kids and not snitch a single crumb. I was downright legalistic about the execution of my fast and felt very proud of myself.
Until I started noticing the change in my eating habits. Since I was fasting, I allowed myself the occasional loaded latte from Starbucks and called it coffee, thinking "sure it has lots of sugar in the flavor syrup, but I'm fasting. A little sugar and fat won't hurt me." I started eating things like Christmas cookies and pie at 5:01pm because I had gone all day without food. David and I went on 2 dates in 3 days because I was super hungry. I was fasting, of course we should get extra trips to our favorite Mexican restaurant (complete with margaritas and bottomless chips and salsa). I realized, I wasn't exercising a fast of going without - I was living a life of delayed gratification.
I'm not against holiday baking and I'm certainly not against margaritas, but my fast was initiated with the specific intent to experience neediness, want, emptiness, hunger, even pain. I wanted to be dependent. I wanted to stop looking to food as an emotional band-aide and find true healing in Christ. But after just a few days, I was back to my old mental practices of duct-taping my heart together with food and treats. My focus was no longer on the Good Shepherd, but on the green grass that could be found at 5:01pm just over that hillside. I was still wandering away from the Shepherd to fend for myself, rather than trusting Him to provide.
It's the age old problem with any type of sacrifice done from the wrong motivation. In Matthew 6 Jesus points to the hypocrisy of fasting, giving alms and prayer that are done out of a heart of self-righteousness and pride. When we do things to look good, looking good is our only reward. Ananias and Sapphira hold back part of their monetary gift and lie about it, bringing instant judgment from God in Acts 5. David speaks to the condition of his heart Psalm 51 stating that God didn't want his sacrifices and offerings, but "a broken and contrite heart".
The natural, fallen condition of our heart is one that wants to be able to claim self-sufficiency. Adam and Eve wanted the one thing God had not given them (for their own good), in a perfect garden where all their needs were supplied. The Israelites were saved from slavery and death and demanded a god their size, rather than a holy God that could shake the mountains with smoke and fire. Pharisees and scribes wanted a law with checkboxes rather than a true Savior. We would rather be white-washed tombs and die, than live a life of dependency.
I think a lot of us somewhat resent the imagery of being sheep. We think of sheep as stupid and clumsy. We resent the idea that Jesus might have to pick us up and carry us home or break our leg to keep us safe from ourselves. Yet all of history shows our inadequacy to be complete on our own. Even while experiencing perfect provision, we find a way to be discontent with God's best. But I don't think being a sheep means being stupid and clumsy. In the parable of the lost sheep (Luke 15) Jesus tells of a man who searches for one lost sheep and celebrates its return. The sheep is still uniquely created by God, given a purpose for its life, intentionally chosen by the Shepherd and celebrated when returned. Being a sheep doesn't mean we are stupid and incapable of expressing our purposes or ideas. Being dependent does not mean that we aren't gifted and talented. Being a metaphorical sheep doesn't negate that we were created in the image of God Himself, full of love, creativity, intelligence, reason and beauty. Being a sheep just means that left to our own devices, we will choose to wander. And every person on the planet has proven it to be true.
One of my all-time favorite hymns reads " O to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be. Let Thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to Thee. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love. Here's my heart, O take and seal it. Seal it to Thy courts above."
The answer to my fasting dilemma is not to give up. It is not to further legalize my food intake ("just say no to chips and salsa and pie"). Rather, it is to bind my wandering heart to Him. It is to reaffirm my neediness and my wandering tendencies to my Good Shepherd. In Him are riches better than cookies and pie - in Him there is peace and rest. For this life and forever.
