Today marks the day of my longest juice fast yet. Fourteen days. I'd say that's impressive. I guess.
So I woke up this morning, at 9 am, got an Ezekial sprouted grain tortilla, put some almond butter on it, drank some coffee...I was expecting my taste buds to explode. Didn't really happen. I was expecting tons of energy. Didn't really happen. Instead I actually got depressed. My stomach was full. I now have access to any and all food I want, really. That doesn't make me excited. It makes me feel a little overfed.
I think there's something interesting that happens during a juice fast. You never realize all you learn or experience until you take your first bite of food again. I was reflecting during the fast, wondering what I was learning, and honestly, I couldn't think of much. I didn't feel transformed. I didn't feel connected to God, at all. Which really shocked me. Because when you willingly lay down food, something that is such a comfort for so long, you expect God to just flood in. But he didn't. I just felt normal. Not like he was close, or like he was far away. Just normal. Level. Steady.
But then today I ate food again. It tasted good for like five seconds and then it was nothing special. I was disappointed. And then, for the first time in two weeks...I felt God rush in. That familiar feeling that I can never describe fully to anyone, that feeling of my soul groaning and my heart being emptied, yet being comforted somehow by something that I can't pinpoint. What did I feel like he was saying? That my fast, although it was a bold move, is not the fix that I wanted it to be. It didn't bring freedom and release like I thought it would. Maybe it could, at another time. I know fasts are powerful. But this one was simply a prelude to a butt-load of healing and challenges to come. I'm at the beginning of something. Not the end.
How do I feel about that? Frustrated. And annoyed. And tired. But the more I try at this whole thing, the more I realize that something else besides me is guiding the perfect timing for my healing. And I'm a little out of control in all of this. Not in a way that makes me feel chaotic, but a way that makes me feel peace actually.
So...imma let it roll. Let it be.
And if you want to go out for coffee or greek food or salad or hummus or something...I can do that now.
Showing posts with label Fasting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fasting. Show all posts
Friday, September 30, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Get Thee to a Nunnery
This weekend I spent three days at the Benedictine Sisters Monastery in Mt. Angel. I've been trying to succeed on a Daniel fast (raw food) for the past few months and have failed repeatedly, so last week Phil Gazely suggested I take a personal retreat to a monastery to get in tune with God and give it another go. If you know me, you know I'm slightly obsessed with monasticism, so of course the idea of spending three days in a monastery amidst sounds of a perfectly pitched compline choir sounded like a fantastic escape.
I learned a LOT this weekend, most of it having little to do with fasting, ironically. Also, it was uncomfortable. Really. The whole experience was nothing like I expected. It was unsettling sitting around with so much time on my hands in so much quiet. It took all of me not to bolt out the door every hour on the hour. Instead I tried to intentionally sit with my discomfort and learn all I could in the tension of silence.
I'll pull out a few highlights from my journal for you guys. Feel free to ask me more about it. Also, it's pretty long and most of you won't have the patience to read it, but patience is what most of it is about, so read on.
On the Friday before I left, Phil gave me a verse that he felt was from God for me. It was Exodus 14:14. "The Lord will fight for you; you need only be still."
5/6/11
"So much is running through my head. I went to prayer with the sisters in a beautiful chapel overlooking the greenery of their grounds. It was rainy outside, the kind of rain that is being interrupted by little bursts of sunshine. Inside we were praying and singing hymns, hymns that I'm sure the sisters have read a thousand times. But the cold, ritualistic feel of prayers were contrasted by the warmth in the eyes of each one of the nuns. It sounds cheesy, but it's true. Each one has greeted me with a kind smile and an extended hand.
"I have SO much time on my hands. I feel like I could commit to anything and talk to anyone right now because I'm not restricted by schedules and to-do's. I hopped in the shower after watching a VHS in their vintage library on Thomas Merton (which was incredible) and it hit me (yet again)--rushing and busyness and excessive entertainment are truly wastes of a life. I've learned more in the last four hours of being here in stillness than I have in three months! I've been bombarded with concepts and information the last few months, tons of great ones, but nothing has soaked in or transformed me--and that's what's been so frustrating. Revelation is abundant in the environment I live in, which is good, but it's almost turned into an instant gratification type of thing, where I grab onto a 'good idea' but a few months later I'm left with zero transformation. Not to mention the fact that everything is so busy. There's never enough time to tune in and seek after transformation. Our lives are noisy and we glorify busyness. It's disgusting, really. What am I making of my life by trading true relationship or silence with busyness? To get meaningless crap accomplished, crap that has zero impact on the greater world around me? To what end is my busyness? Nothing. Loneliness, if anything. It leaves me empty handed. I want to live without busyness and stuff. But the busyness and stuff is so freaking enticing. Busyness equates productivity in our culture and I think that's such a lie. If anything, it's a huge distraction. Busyness drowns out the irritating cries of my soul for depth and vitality that do not come easily in this shallow age we live in . Stuff: food, entertainment, spending--it passes time and distracts me from my soul, whose cries I've been diminishing in value, but are only becoming more urgent as the days progress. I can't shut up the cries of my heart anymore--it creaks and groans like a piece of wood buckling under too much weight. What will hydrate it again?
5/6/11--[an entry regarding gluttony] "...I think that's this fast is for--to break the chains of gluttony and sloth. What happens when I weed out the main source of overconsumption in my life? Overconsumption ceases. So does rushing and busyness--rushing to stuff food in my mouth or frantically grab the last bit of food with my hands. My tunnel vision toward food is shut off. Slownesss rushes in to fill it's place. Settledness, the sense of time. No longer am I frantic, I'm calm. No longer am I afraid of not getting filled, for I am filled by being underfilled. An interesting paradox. "
5/7/11--"I met someone today. An old dude. Today I met Sid. He creeped me out at first, because his eyes would kind of glaze over when he spoke and he dramatically shift his weight from side to side. I didn't know why he acted that way until he started sharing more about his story. He introduced himself to me by asking if I'd been to the monastery before. I said no. He said he had, six times now, that he comes once a year. Then he got into why. Apparently, when he was eighteen, he got in a car accident. He hit the side of a bridge, wasn't wearing his seat belt and was launched through the windshield, skidding across rocks down a hill. As he was telling the story he kept saying, '...and I went out of my body'. I kept wondering what he meant, so I finally interrupted him to ask and he said, 'Oh, into the light. The tunnel." At this point I wondered if I was talking to a crazy. But he started telling me how he was suspended in light and felt nothing but sense of being pulled three directions--toward Good, toward Evil, and toward himself, back to Earth. He went back, obviously, out of his choice, I don't know. But he went on to tell me that due to that experience he had a myriad of questions about faith and God, so he made the choice to go to seminary--he said it just made things worse and things were still pretty unresolved. Well, twenty years later at thirty-eight, he gets married. He said that's when everything 'exploded'. He hit a wall of depression, hopelessness and despair. He didn't know why it hit at that time, that time that was supposed to be the most fulfilling time in our lives--when we marry another person. Instead of running from the marriage, him and his wife spent years together in counseling trying to work things through. He said it's been a process, and he's only now beginning to understand the questions he had back when he was eighteen. Now when he comes to Mt. Angel, he keeps in mind the meditation practices he's learned, but he lets whatever happens, happen. He doesn't judge any of it. He just lets it be. He said God's speaking theree things to him already, "In Him, with him, as him." He said he keeps hearing it, over and over and he's just going with the flow for now. He had some really profound things to say, actually and was a very sharp, very deep man. Although his shifty mannerisms made me think otherwise, at first. After he shared his story, he asked me about mine. I told him a bit, about what I'm working through. A lot of it was similar to what he said he was going through. He said I'm in a good place now, working all of this out so young because i'm getting a strong foundation. Which I hear a lot. But makes me wonder...when is this kind of 'crisis' supposed to happen? When you're twenty-five or when you're fifty? It tends to be either one of those age ranges, I've noticed. I asked myself, as far as life lessons, am I exceptional and and he's behind? Or am I too early and he's on time? Or are we both just okay where we're at? Probably the latter."
5/8/11--"My attention span is horrific. My mind has probably wandered to fifteen different places just while reading one chapter of Romans. This will take practice, this slowness thing. This meditative life. I live in a time where I can be entertained by anything, anytime of day, it's at my fingertips no matter where I am. The mark of a peculiar people in this generation will be those who can sit in silence and be okay. Those who can leave their smart phones at home and not have their brain short circuit. Those who reject busyness and say no to noise even it if means others will call them lazy, narcissistic, anti-social or unproductive. Will we take our 'busyness', rushing and to-do lists to the grave? No. When you're dead "you don't take nothing with you but your soul," as John Lennon sang. And our souls thrive on depth, relationship and wonder at simplicity and things not made by man. Oh, God, help me to be a person of slowness. And may your word be my greatest escape."
5/8/11--"I took a walk through the cemetery earlier. I was just walking and thinking/praying. As I was praying, I began to repent. Nothing super heavy or anything like that, but still things of importance. I repented of something that surprised me. When you take walks outside, you're kind of hit in the face with how big God is. How untameable and wild. And I realized that my Christian life consists of whining that God isn't at my fingertips every time I pray--that I'm not 'hearing him' that I'm not getting a word for someone, that I'm not getting some type of vision. God is bigger than those things. And he's not going to show up whenever I snap my arrogant fingers. I prayed he would reshape my thinking to that of worshiping and praying as an act of submitting to him, not as an act of getting something out of him. Most saints and contemplatives had quiet times consisting of silence and slow meditation--not weeping and demanding and striving. Although emotions have their place, they're not the essence of prayer, or the essence of God. He is a God worthy of honor and worthy of us waiting on him. To think he has to show up every time we do something spiritual is so naive. I prayed he would turn my relationship with him into a silent union with Him. Not an experience."
I learned a lot while I was there and wondered at even more. Such as: are some monks avoiding intimacy by choosing to take the vows of an order? How many Catholics will go to heaven as Christians see it? Catholics pray to Saints, and I also see monks pulling from Zen thought and other types of religions--Am I worshiping the same God they are? Am I called to a contemplative life? If I'm not called to a monastery, how can I cultivate a contemplative life in my day-to-day? How can I make the Eucharist more sacred? How can I get my hands on every Thomas Merton, St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila and St. Francis of Assisi book ever written? And on and on.
Being at the monastery made feel intellectually at home. I can't wait to go again.
I learned a LOT this weekend, most of it having little to do with fasting, ironically. Also, it was uncomfortable. Really. The whole experience was nothing like I expected. It was unsettling sitting around with so much time on my hands in so much quiet. It took all of me not to bolt out the door every hour on the hour. Instead I tried to intentionally sit with my discomfort and learn all I could in the tension of silence.
I'll pull out a few highlights from my journal for you guys. Feel free to ask me more about it. Also, it's pretty long and most of you won't have the patience to read it, but patience is what most of it is about, so read on.
On the Friday before I left, Phil gave me a verse that he felt was from God for me. It was Exodus 14:14. "The Lord will fight for you; you need only be still."
5/6/11
"So much is running through my head. I went to prayer with the sisters in a beautiful chapel overlooking the greenery of their grounds. It was rainy outside, the kind of rain that is being interrupted by little bursts of sunshine. Inside we were praying and singing hymns, hymns that I'm sure the sisters have read a thousand times. But the cold, ritualistic feel of prayers were contrasted by the warmth in the eyes of each one of the nuns. It sounds cheesy, but it's true. Each one has greeted me with a kind smile and an extended hand.
"I have SO much time on my hands. I feel like I could commit to anything and talk to anyone right now because I'm not restricted by schedules and to-do's. I hopped in the shower after watching a VHS in their vintage library on Thomas Merton (which was incredible) and it hit me (yet again)--rushing and busyness and excessive entertainment are truly wastes of a life. I've learned more in the last four hours of being here in stillness than I have in three months! I've been bombarded with concepts and information the last few months, tons of great ones, but nothing has soaked in or transformed me--and that's what's been so frustrating. Revelation is abundant in the environment I live in, which is good, but it's almost turned into an instant gratification type of thing, where I grab onto a 'good idea' but a few months later I'm left with zero transformation. Not to mention the fact that everything is so busy. There's never enough time to tune in and seek after transformation. Our lives are noisy and we glorify busyness. It's disgusting, really. What am I making of my life by trading true relationship or silence with busyness? To get meaningless crap accomplished, crap that has zero impact on the greater world around me? To what end is my busyness? Nothing. Loneliness, if anything. It leaves me empty handed. I want to live without busyness and stuff. But the busyness and stuff is so freaking enticing. Busyness equates productivity in our culture and I think that's such a lie. If anything, it's a huge distraction. Busyness drowns out the irritating cries of my soul for depth and vitality that do not come easily in this shallow age we live in . Stuff: food, entertainment, spending--it passes time and distracts me from my soul, whose cries I've been diminishing in value, but are only becoming more urgent as the days progress. I can't shut up the cries of my heart anymore--it creaks and groans like a piece of wood buckling under too much weight. What will hydrate it again?
5/6/11--[an entry regarding gluttony] "...I think that's this fast is for--to break the chains of gluttony and sloth. What happens when I weed out the main source of overconsumption in my life? Overconsumption ceases. So does rushing and busyness--rushing to stuff food in my mouth or frantically grab the last bit of food with my hands. My tunnel vision toward food is shut off. Slownesss rushes in to fill it's place. Settledness, the sense of time. No longer am I frantic, I'm calm. No longer am I afraid of not getting filled, for I am filled by being underfilled. An interesting paradox. "
5/7/11--"I met someone today. An old dude. Today I met Sid. He creeped me out at first, because his eyes would kind of glaze over when he spoke and he dramatically shift his weight from side to side. I didn't know why he acted that way until he started sharing more about his story. He introduced himself to me by asking if I'd been to the monastery before. I said no. He said he had, six times now, that he comes once a year. Then he got into why. Apparently, when he was eighteen, he got in a car accident. He hit the side of a bridge, wasn't wearing his seat belt and was launched through the windshield, skidding across rocks down a hill. As he was telling the story he kept saying, '...and I went out of my body'. I kept wondering what he meant, so I finally interrupted him to ask and he said, 'Oh, into the light. The tunnel." At this point I wondered if I was talking to a crazy. But he started telling me how he was suspended in light and felt nothing but sense of being pulled three directions--toward Good, toward Evil, and toward himself, back to Earth. He went back, obviously, out of his choice, I don't know. But he went on to tell me that due to that experience he had a myriad of questions about faith and God, so he made the choice to go to seminary--he said it just made things worse and things were still pretty unresolved. Well, twenty years later at thirty-eight, he gets married. He said that's when everything 'exploded'. He hit a wall of depression, hopelessness and despair. He didn't know why it hit at that time, that time that was supposed to be the most fulfilling time in our lives--when we marry another person. Instead of running from the marriage, him and his wife spent years together in counseling trying to work things through. He said it's been a process, and he's only now beginning to understand the questions he had back when he was eighteen. Now when he comes to Mt. Angel, he keeps in mind the meditation practices he's learned, but he lets whatever happens, happen. He doesn't judge any of it. He just lets it be. He said God's speaking theree things to him already, "In Him, with him, as him." He said he keeps hearing it, over and over and he's just going with the flow for now. He had some really profound things to say, actually and was a very sharp, very deep man. Although his shifty mannerisms made me think otherwise, at first. After he shared his story, he asked me about mine. I told him a bit, about what I'm working through. A lot of it was similar to what he said he was going through. He said I'm in a good place now, working all of this out so young because i'm getting a strong foundation. Which I hear a lot. But makes me wonder...when is this kind of 'crisis' supposed to happen? When you're twenty-five or when you're fifty? It tends to be either one of those age ranges, I've noticed. I asked myself, as far as life lessons, am I exceptional and and he's behind? Or am I too early and he's on time? Or are we both just okay where we're at? Probably the latter."
5/8/11--"My attention span is horrific. My mind has probably wandered to fifteen different places just while reading one chapter of Romans. This will take practice, this slowness thing. This meditative life. I live in a time where I can be entertained by anything, anytime of day, it's at my fingertips no matter where I am. The mark of a peculiar people in this generation will be those who can sit in silence and be okay. Those who can leave their smart phones at home and not have their brain short circuit. Those who reject busyness and say no to noise even it if means others will call them lazy, narcissistic, anti-social or unproductive. Will we take our 'busyness', rushing and to-do lists to the grave? No. When you're dead "you don't take nothing with you but your soul," as John Lennon sang. And our souls thrive on depth, relationship and wonder at simplicity and things not made by man. Oh, God, help me to be a person of slowness. And may your word be my greatest escape."
5/8/11--"I took a walk through the cemetery earlier. I was just walking and thinking/praying. As I was praying, I began to repent. Nothing super heavy or anything like that, but still things of importance. I repented of something that surprised me. When you take walks outside, you're kind of hit in the face with how big God is. How untameable and wild. And I realized that my Christian life consists of whining that God isn't at my fingertips every time I pray--that I'm not 'hearing him' that I'm not getting a word for someone, that I'm not getting some type of vision. God is bigger than those things. And he's not going to show up whenever I snap my arrogant fingers. I prayed he would reshape my thinking to that of worshiping and praying as an act of submitting to him, not as an act of getting something out of him. Most saints and contemplatives had quiet times consisting of silence and slow meditation--not weeping and demanding and striving. Although emotions have their place, they're not the essence of prayer, or the essence of God. He is a God worthy of honor and worthy of us waiting on him. To think he has to show up every time we do something spiritual is so naive. I prayed he would turn my relationship with him into a silent union with Him. Not an experience."
I learned a lot while I was there and wondered at even more. Such as: are some monks avoiding intimacy by choosing to take the vows of an order? How many Catholics will go to heaven as Christians see it? Catholics pray to Saints, and I also see monks pulling from Zen thought and other types of religions--Am I worshiping the same God they are? Am I called to a contemplative life? If I'm not called to a monastery, how can I cultivate a contemplative life in my day-to-day? How can I make the Eucharist more sacred? How can I get my hands on every Thomas Merton, St. John of the Cross, St. Teresa of Avila and St. Francis of Assisi book ever written? And on and on.
Being at the monastery made feel intellectually at home. I can't wait to go again.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Day #10--A Man After My Own Heart
Today I got the pleasure of having lunch with Phil Gazley, a man after my own heart. Normally, I tend to be super shy around teachers or people of authority, but I'm getting over it and learning to approach them. Because being in YWAM, we have incredible minds coming through here on a weekly basis, specifically to share their knowledge with new missionaries, and for me to not get to know them is, honestly, a huge waste.
So, that being said, today after class I asked Phil if we could talk and he said yes, he'd love to. We went through the lunch line and sat down with our food. We spent the next hour talking about fasting, the holy spirit, monasticism, solitude, acedia, our generations paralysis from information over-load and much more. I was sitting there across from him with a plate full of food, fork in one hand and chin resting on the other, soaking up everything he was saying and it was like he was spoon-feeding my soul. I didn't even want the food in front of me, which basically never happens. So that's pretty telling of how great the conversation was. I definitely don't mean to over-glorify him--but I do want to point out that it was so nice being understood and being able to talk with someone about things that make my soul tick. I cant tell you how many times I try to talk to people about monasticism and i can literally see it going in one ear and out the other. In my opinion, monasticism and the ancient practices are key to understanding God, so it's sad for me to see so many people disinterested in it.
Anyway, while we were talking I asked him about this fast. I told him I know I feel a deep call from God to do a serious long term fast, but I've tried at least 5 times in the last few months and fail after about 3 days. I asked him what that meant or if he knew of any secret tips that help in sticking out a fast or if it might have to do with acedia. He pointed out something interesting. He reminded me that I live in a community. A community bustling with people, food and coffee around every corner. to-do lists, texting, internet and distractions abundant. He wondered if I'm getting off on the wrong foot, starting out with zeal, but burning out because of a lack of foundation (which very well could be the truth--the amount of time I've spent in prayer these past days has NOT been sufficient, even for normal routine, let alone a fast). He said I'm probably beating myself up for failing (yes) but I might just be failing for reasons as simple as being distracted. So, he suggested that if I really feel I need to fast, that I take some time away in solitude for a few days to get through the rough part and to get centered with God-- without distractions, without to-do lists. He mentioned that monastaries provide great environments for personal retreats and things of that nature. So today I researched monastaries in the Salem area and found one in a town about 15 minutes away from here, nestled in the mountains. I called them today, asked if I could come and they said yes. It was surprisingly easy. So, I'm headed there for the weekend, to give this fast another go. Hopefully God will speak some things to me about this fast, and the myriad of things connected with it. Then hopefully, I can begin to find healing and finally turn my gaze from inward to outward--I feel so inward these days I feel like I'm imploding. But my problem has been that I feel so wretched inside I literally can't turn my gaze outward. It's a terrible place to be. Anyway, I'm sure I'll get more clarity on that soon.
So, the fast is on a slight pause until Friday. I'll start again, head to the monastary for a few days and pick up the blogging when I return, unless God says otherwise. I will talk to you guys then.
P.S. Thanks for reading.
So, that being said, today after class I asked Phil if we could talk and he said yes, he'd love to. We went through the lunch line and sat down with our food. We spent the next hour talking about fasting, the holy spirit, monasticism, solitude, acedia, our generations paralysis from information over-load and much more. I was sitting there across from him with a plate full of food, fork in one hand and chin resting on the other, soaking up everything he was saying and it was like he was spoon-feeding my soul. I didn't even want the food in front of me, which basically never happens. So that's pretty telling of how great the conversation was. I definitely don't mean to over-glorify him--but I do want to point out that it was so nice being understood and being able to talk with someone about things that make my soul tick. I cant tell you how many times I try to talk to people about monasticism and i can literally see it going in one ear and out the other. In my opinion, monasticism and the ancient practices are key to understanding God, so it's sad for me to see so many people disinterested in it.
Anyway, while we were talking I asked him about this fast. I told him I know I feel a deep call from God to do a serious long term fast, but I've tried at least 5 times in the last few months and fail after about 3 days. I asked him what that meant or if he knew of any secret tips that help in sticking out a fast or if it might have to do with acedia. He pointed out something interesting. He reminded me that I live in a community. A community bustling with people, food and coffee around every corner. to-do lists, texting, internet and distractions abundant. He wondered if I'm getting off on the wrong foot, starting out with zeal, but burning out because of a lack of foundation (which very well could be the truth--the amount of time I've spent in prayer these past days has NOT been sufficient, even for normal routine, let alone a fast). He said I'm probably beating myself up for failing (yes) but I might just be failing for reasons as simple as being distracted. So, he suggested that if I really feel I need to fast, that I take some time away in solitude for a few days to get through the rough part and to get centered with God-- without distractions, without to-do lists. He mentioned that monastaries provide great environments for personal retreats and things of that nature. So today I researched monastaries in the Salem area and found one in a town about 15 minutes away from here, nestled in the mountains. I called them today, asked if I could come and they said yes. It was surprisingly easy. So, I'm headed there for the weekend, to give this fast another go. Hopefully God will speak some things to me about this fast, and the myriad of things connected with it. Then hopefully, I can begin to find healing and finally turn my gaze from inward to outward--I feel so inward these days I feel like I'm imploding. But my problem has been that I feel so wretched inside I literally can't turn my gaze outward. It's a terrible place to be. Anyway, I'm sure I'll get more clarity on that soon.
So, the fast is on a slight pause until Friday. I'll start again, head to the monastary for a few days and pick up the blogging when I return, unless God says otherwise. I will talk to you guys then.
P.S. Thanks for reading.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Day #9--Lighthearted
Today I ate lots of fruit. Probably half of all my food today was fruit. Today was easy. And delicious.
Also, Phil Gazely told me that he knew Marcus Mumford when he was a fumbling worship leader for his dad's Vineyard church in England. "Now I see him playing on the Grammy's with Bob Dylan and I'm like...huh."
Also, Phil Gazely told me that he knew Marcus Mumford when he was a fumbling worship leader for his dad's Vineyard church in England. "Now I see him playing on the Grammy's with Bob Dylan and I'm like...huh."
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Day #8--Recharge
Today was insanely beautiful. There wasn't a cloud in the sky except for a few contrails, which was a huge refreshment considering there's heavy cloud cover over Salem, Oregon seven days a week during the winter. But...spring is slowly creepin' in. I hung out in the grass with my pals all day. It was awesome.
I also got to read more of Acedia & Me. It's comforting when someone writes a book that's your heart in paperback form. Also, this week Phil Gazely, the human trafficking activist and speaker on all things Holy Spirit is speaking at YWAM Salem. He was the one that offhandedly mentioned the book to our community last time he was here, because it tied in to his speaking topic that night. So I'm hoping to catch him sometime this week and see if we can talk a little more in depth about this complicated concept. But, one thing I don't want to do is start finding security in a label. I don't want to start blaming every negative thing, failure, disappointment or thing I don't like about myself on acedia. That would be stupid. So I'm hoping I can glean some wisdom from him and maybe some practical acedia fighters. He's a mighty man who's experienced much, and even if I don't get any practical tips out of him, I'm sure just being a conversation with him, about anything, will widen my perspective to something bigger than my silly self.
So, in closing, I got TONS of sunshine today, which I consider to be raw food. A+.
I also got to read more of Acedia & Me. It's comforting when someone writes a book that's your heart in paperback form. Also, this week Phil Gazely, the human trafficking activist and speaker on all things Holy Spirit is speaking at YWAM Salem. He was the one that offhandedly mentioned the book to our community last time he was here, because it tied in to his speaking topic that night. So I'm hoping to catch him sometime this week and see if we can talk a little more in depth about this complicated concept. But, one thing I don't want to do is start finding security in a label. I don't want to start blaming every negative thing, failure, disappointment or thing I don't like about myself on acedia. That would be stupid. So I'm hoping I can glean some wisdom from him and maybe some practical acedia fighters. He's a mighty man who's experienced much, and even if I don't get any practical tips out of him, I'm sure just being a conversation with him, about anything, will widen my perspective to something bigger than my silly self.
So, in closing, I got TONS of sunshine today, which I consider to be raw food. A+.
Day #7--The Demon Acedia
Fail #2.
And it's only been one week.
What's funny is, I've tried diets/fasts like this probably at least 100 times. And can never follow through. Ever. Consistency has always been completely out of my reach. I've tried accountability, food charts, alarm clock reminders, everything. What's keeping me from wanting to pursue the best for myself? I can't constrict this to simply food. This trend is everywhere in my life. I don't think there's one thing I do regularly, without fail. Except the things I don't want to do.
Usually, when I fail in a commitment like this, I fight it by motivating myself again towards deeper legalism: restricting myself more, making stricter schedules, putting notes up everywhere to remind myself of the goal. A few days go by where I'm super pumped, but those days are soon followed by a crash, and I go back to square one.
This is more complicated than a lack of self-control. Somewhere in my life there is a disconnect.
Yesterday I stumbled upon Gregory Boyd's website, and there's a Q&A section filled with the most common questions he gets from readers. Here's Gregory Boyd's response to a question from a man asking Gregory why God created him with an uncontrollable sex drive.
"The challenge is not to suppress your sex drive – which you’d probably have little success at doing anyway. The challenge, rather, is to make God the highest priority of your life. Seek first the Kingdom, Jesus said (Mt 6:33). You’ll find that the more you pour yourself into being a disciple of Jesus, the more power you’ll have over your sex drive."
Okay. Being a disciple of Christ brings about the fruits of the spirit, one of those being self-control. So, if you're a Christian, and you're struggling with self-control, the answer is, be devoted to Christ.
But, what if the very thought of being a disciple makes you shrug your shoulders?
Being very candid, that's where I'm at. I feel like my life is one big yawn. It's not that things are boring--it's that I just don't care. I feel like I have to make myself care about anything. This isn't depression and it's not laziness. And this isn't a symptom of some wound. It's not some misconception of God I have. Not this time. This is something that's rooted itself into my whole being. I can feel it. It's this perpetual apathy in everything and lack of strength to uproot it. I'm scrambling around trying to fight it with more and more commitments and schedules, but all that's doing is showing me that nothing inside of me will comply. And all I'm saying is, if Satan has a best way of making a Christian ineffective, it's this. Because you're not wounded and on your way to healing, you're not depressed and working through pain, you're sitting in the middle of an amazing, bustling life with your arms folded, picking at your nails wondering when it will all be finished.
I'm at a loss, honestly. I guess I need prayer. And I'm not giving up, day #8 will still come tomorrow.
And it's only been one week.
What's funny is, I've tried diets/fasts like this probably at least 100 times. And can never follow through. Ever. Consistency has always been completely out of my reach. I've tried accountability, food charts, alarm clock reminders, everything. What's keeping me from wanting to pursue the best for myself? I can't constrict this to simply food. This trend is everywhere in my life. I don't think there's one thing I do regularly, without fail. Except the things I don't want to do.
Usually, when I fail in a commitment like this, I fight it by motivating myself again towards deeper legalism: restricting myself more, making stricter schedules, putting notes up everywhere to remind myself of the goal. A few days go by where I'm super pumped, but those days are soon followed by a crash, and I go back to square one.
This is more complicated than a lack of self-control. Somewhere in my life there is a disconnect.
Yesterday I stumbled upon Gregory Boyd's website, and there's a Q&A section filled with the most common questions he gets from readers. Here's Gregory Boyd's response to a question from a man asking Gregory why God created him with an uncontrollable sex drive.
"The challenge is not to suppress your sex drive – which you’d probably have little success at doing anyway. The challenge, rather, is to make God the highest priority of your life. Seek first the Kingdom, Jesus said (Mt 6:33). You’ll find that the more you pour yourself into being a disciple of Jesus, the more power you’ll have over your sex drive."
Okay. Being a disciple of Christ brings about the fruits of the spirit, one of those being self-control. So, if you're a Christian, and you're struggling with self-control, the answer is, be devoted to Christ.
But, what if the very thought of being a disciple makes you shrug your shoulders?
Being very candid, that's where I'm at. I feel like my life is one big yawn. It's not that things are boring--it's that I just don't care. I feel like I have to make myself care about anything. This isn't depression and it's not laziness. And this isn't a symptom of some wound. It's not some misconception of God I have. Not this time. This is something that's rooted itself into my whole being. I can feel it. It's this perpetual apathy in everything and lack of strength to uproot it. I'm scrambling around trying to fight it with more and more commitments and schedules, but all that's doing is showing me that nothing inside of me will comply. And all I'm saying is, if Satan has a best way of making a Christian ineffective, it's this. Because you're not wounded and on your way to healing, you're not depressed and working through pain, you're sitting in the middle of an amazing, bustling life with your arms folded, picking at your nails wondering when it will all be finished.
I'm at a loss, honestly. I guess I need prayer. And I'm not giving up, day #8 will still come tomorrow.
Friday, April 29, 2011
Day #6--Running with Duck Feet
Today was 100% raw.
AND, I went for a run. I haven't been able to go running (or do much walking, for that matter) in about a year in a half because I have an unidentifiable soft tissue injury in my left foot that won't heal. But today...I took a risk and ran for 20 minutes. My form is horrible, I kind of run like a duck and my feet hit the ground in all the wrong places at the wrong times. But the good news is, the foot pain isn't unbearable! Which is awesome because I'd love an additional way to detox while I'm on this diet. I probably shouldn't run more than a couple times a week, just because I don't want to injure anything more with my poor form. But we'll see how it progresses. I've heard of everything from arthritis all the way to diabetes being healed from raw diets. I'm crossing my fingers that this will have a positive effect on my foot pain, immune system and joint health. Also, don't worry, I'm still 24 years old, not 90 years old like all of this is making me sound. Ballz.
Have a great weekend, pals.
AND, I went for a run. I haven't been able to go running (or do much walking, for that matter) in about a year in a half because I have an unidentifiable soft tissue injury in my left foot that won't heal. But today...I took a risk and ran for 20 minutes. My form is horrible, I kind of run like a duck and my feet hit the ground in all the wrong places at the wrong times. But the good news is, the foot pain isn't unbearable! Which is awesome because I'd love an additional way to detox while I'm on this diet. I probably shouldn't run more than a couple times a week, just because I don't want to injure anything more with my poor form. But we'll see how it progresses. I've heard of everything from arthritis all the way to diabetes being healed from raw diets. I'm crossing my fingers that this will have a positive effect on my foot pain, immune system and joint health. Also, don't worry, I'm still 24 years old, not 90 years old like all of this is making me sound. Ballz.
Have a great weekend, pals.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Day #5--Re-start
That "Day #5" title should probably actually say "Day #1" since I'm technically starting over because I was seduced by Baskin Robbin's 31¢ Day.
But maybe it's best to not be so rigid and dogmatic with it and just let the fail day be a fail day and keep trudging on.
Anytime I've ever been all or nothing with a diet, it's never translated into changing my day-to-day eating routines, which is something to be noted. And I'd like self-control and good choices to translate when these 30 days are over. So...I won't call yesterday a fail, I'll call it a slight regression. Here's to PROgression.
That's probably all I have to say right now. About raw food anyway. I have a LOT to say about what God's been showing me through others, even though His actual voice has been really silent. It's been really surprising. But maybe in another post. Feel free to listen to this beautiful song instead.
But maybe it's best to not be so rigid and dogmatic with it and just let the fail day be a fail day and keep trudging on.
Anytime I've ever been all or nothing with a diet, it's never translated into changing my day-to-day eating routines, which is something to be noted. And I'd like self-control and good choices to translate when these 30 days are over. So...I won't call yesterday a fail, I'll call it a slight regression. Here's to PROgression.
That's probably all I have to say right now. About raw food anyway. I have a LOT to say about what God's been showing me through others, even though His actual voice has been really silent. It's been really surprising. But maybe in another post. Feel free to listen to this beautiful song instead.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Day #3--Self-awareness is Rampant
Hi.
My head feels like a balloon slightly anchored by a ribbon to the rest of my body. Everything is pretty foggy. and sleepy.
Today as I was doodling during lecture and once again becoming aware of my 2 second attention span, it hit me how pretty much anything good seems like it goes against my grain. And when I say good, I mean things like, spending time with others, listening in class without doodling or checking my twitter, actively praying longer than two minutes, worshiping for God's sake and not mine, joyfully doing things for the sake of others, being vulnerable in conversation, initiating socialization, friendship, saying hello and stopping to chat with passerbys....and on and on. It feels like the grain of these things goes from left to right and mine goes up and down. It rubs me wrong and feels like I'm trying to walk through muck and mire just to simply say hello to someone. It's so hard for me to just be good, and I'm not browbeating myself--really, nothing in me is good, and nothing wants to be. But of course, I can't let the simple fact that I don't want to do something keep me from doing it--I do it. Its just through clenched teeth for the first few minutes, then reality sets in and I realize how good it actually is. Anyway, my point, or rather my question, is how do I combat it? How do you, if you feel similar? I've been reading more about a term called 'acedia' and how it mostly plagues monks and those in religious orders...it's not depression, it's not laziness, it's just a huge weight of not caring. And not even caring about how you don't care. It's a huge hill to overcome and when you feel like you have to overcome it 20 times a day, it gets really old. I don't want to believe that I'll have to feel this way the rest of my life. I believe if Jesus promises an abundant life, than inside that abundant life would be joy for the things that he created as good, so I'm going to hold out for that. But in the meantime, I need some type of solution. I'll be on the look out.
Anyway.
Happy salads.
My head feels like a balloon slightly anchored by a ribbon to the rest of my body. Everything is pretty foggy. and sleepy.
Today as I was doodling during lecture and once again becoming aware of my 2 second attention span, it hit me how pretty much anything good seems like it goes against my grain. And when I say good, I mean things like, spending time with others, listening in class without doodling or checking my twitter, actively praying longer than two minutes, worshiping for God's sake and not mine, joyfully doing things for the sake of others, being vulnerable in conversation, initiating socialization, friendship, saying hello and stopping to chat with passerbys....and on and on. It feels like the grain of these things goes from left to right and mine goes up and down. It rubs me wrong and feels like I'm trying to walk through muck and mire just to simply say hello to someone. It's so hard for me to just be good, and I'm not browbeating myself--really, nothing in me is good, and nothing wants to be. But of course, I can't let the simple fact that I don't want to do something keep me from doing it--I do it. Its just through clenched teeth for the first few minutes, then reality sets in and I realize how good it actually is. Anyway, my point, or rather my question, is how do I combat it? How do you, if you feel similar? I've been reading more about a term called 'acedia' and how it mostly plagues monks and those in religious orders...it's not depression, it's not laziness, it's just a huge weight of not caring. And not even caring about how you don't care. It's a huge hill to overcome and when you feel like you have to overcome it 20 times a day, it gets really old. I don't want to believe that I'll have to feel this way the rest of my life. I believe if Jesus promises an abundant life, than inside that abundant life would be joy for the things that he created as good, so I'm going to hold out for that. But in the meantime, I need some type of solution. I'll be on the look out.
Anyway.
Happy salads.
Day #2--The Power Of The Mind
I almost forgot to blog today. Good thing I didn't.
Bipolar mood swings set in today. It's incredible to me how much fasts are NOT about the food. I'd say most fasting symptoms are 70% mental and 30% physical. Food is such an attachment. And when we don't get it...watch out the eff out.
Seriously.
I noticed something in me today. I was feeling really tired, headachey and grumpy to the nth degree (like literally eyes drooping shut in the passenger seat), while on my way to a meeting. Turns out that meeting was at a coffee shop. It didn't really cross my mind that I would get to have *caffeine* until I was about a block away and suddenly all of my tired, headachey and grumpy to the nth degree melted away and shot all the way up to butterflies and total elation and I perked up like a wilted flower getting water. In a matter of seconds. So either A. I'm as mentally dependent on caffeine as I am on food or B. any form of comfort sounds GREAT right now since I feel cold and skinny and like I could eat an entire jar of almond butter and still feel like I haven't eaten a thing. The hunger is the worst. I keep reading it lasts for about 10 days until it subsides. Lawd in heav'n. Or C. I underestimate the power of the mind.
Going to sleep with a rumblin' belly. Goodnight.
Bipolar mood swings set in today. It's incredible to me how much fasts are NOT about the food. I'd say most fasting symptoms are 70% mental and 30% physical. Food is such an attachment. And when we don't get it...watch out the eff out.
Seriously.
I noticed something in me today. I was feeling really tired, headachey and grumpy to the nth degree (like literally eyes drooping shut in the passenger seat), while on my way to a meeting. Turns out that meeting was at a coffee shop. It didn't really cross my mind that I would get to have *caffeine* until I was about a block away and suddenly all of my tired, headachey and grumpy to the nth degree melted away and shot all the way up to butterflies and total elation and I perked up like a wilted flower getting water. In a matter of seconds. So either A. I'm as mentally dependent on caffeine as I am on food or B. any form of comfort sounds GREAT right now since I feel cold and skinny and like I could eat an entire jar of almond butter and still feel like I haven't eaten a thing. The hunger is the worst. I keep reading it lasts for about 10 days until it subsides. Lawd in heav'n. Or C. I underestimate the power of the mind.
Going to sleep with a rumblin' belly. Goodnight.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Day #1--Happy Easter
Happy Easter.
Today's church service was filled with pretty dresses, snazzy suits, amazing stories of redemption and reminders of the power of the Resurrection. We heard amazing testimonies of the redeeming nature of our God, and most stories had to do with individuals falling to rock bottom because of addiction stemming from some type of wound, and then being rescued from the pit by Jesus. I think we sometimes forget how prevalent addiction is. It's everywhere and in everyone in one way or another. Addictions come in all shapes and sizes and I'd argue that you can pretty much become addicted to anything. The smallest most seemingly insignificant thing, (TV for example) can have just as much, if not more power on someone than a substance like cocaine. It baffles my mind. Also, the power of the mind baffles my mind. Because that's the one thing all addictions trace back to--mind struggle. What would happen to the state of humanity if we gained power over our minds instead of the other way around? Is it even possible? It's interesting to think about.
Anyway, that's what was swirling around in my head during church. Now I'm back at home and other things are swirling around--mainly smells from the kitchen. Of cinnamon rolls, honey baked ham, sweet potatoes, dinner rolls, FRICK. Tonight I will be practicing sitting in my room with a cold plate of salad while the YWAMers sit around tables in the cafeteria sharing warm smiles and hot dishes of delectable treats. I'm not irate about it yet. Actually, I'm pretty peaceful about it. But it's only 8 hours into this fast. So far 2 bananas, almond butter and some cashews a few hours later have been enough to satisfy my spoiled belly. Oh, but I should probably mention that I had a caramel macchiato at 1pm. In an attempt to poop. That might be TMI for most of you, but for me, as the Colon Health Queen, it's nothin' more than a topic for dinner table discussion. So sorry in advance, but there might be much more poo talk in the next 29 posts than you might enjoy. Anyway, this is my written pact to you all (so far Josh Brown and maybe one other person) to NOT drink sugary lattes in order to poop anymore during this fast. Because I have a feeling it just re-toxifies me as if I'm back to square one. So. here's to no more coffee--yerba mate instead. Clean, yet stimulating--mentally and...physically.
Cheers.
Today's church service was filled with pretty dresses, snazzy suits, amazing stories of redemption and reminders of the power of the Resurrection. We heard amazing testimonies of the redeeming nature of our God, and most stories had to do with individuals falling to rock bottom because of addiction stemming from some type of wound, and then being rescued from the pit by Jesus. I think we sometimes forget how prevalent addiction is. It's everywhere and in everyone in one way or another. Addictions come in all shapes and sizes and I'd argue that you can pretty much become addicted to anything. The smallest most seemingly insignificant thing, (TV for example) can have just as much, if not more power on someone than a substance like cocaine. It baffles my mind. Also, the power of the mind baffles my mind. Because that's the one thing all addictions trace back to--mind struggle. What would happen to the state of humanity if we gained power over our minds instead of the other way around? Is it even possible? It's interesting to think about.
Anyway, that's what was swirling around in my head during church. Now I'm back at home and other things are swirling around--mainly smells from the kitchen. Of cinnamon rolls, honey baked ham, sweet potatoes, dinner rolls, FRICK. Tonight I will be practicing sitting in my room with a cold plate of salad while the YWAMers sit around tables in the cafeteria sharing warm smiles and hot dishes of delectable treats. I'm not irate about it yet. Actually, I'm pretty peaceful about it. But it's only 8 hours into this fast. So far 2 bananas, almond butter and some cashews a few hours later have been enough to satisfy my spoiled belly. Oh, but I should probably mention that I had a caramel macchiato at 1pm. In an attempt to poop. That might be TMI for most of you, but for me, as the Colon Health Queen, it's nothin' more than a topic for dinner table discussion. So sorry in advance, but there might be much more poo talk in the next 29 posts than you might enjoy. Anyway, this is my written pact to you all (so far Josh Brown and maybe one other person) to NOT drink sugary lattes in order to poop anymore during this fast. Because I have a feeling it just re-toxifies me as if I'm back to square one. So. here's to no more coffee--yerba mate instead. Clean, yet stimulating--mentally and...physically.
Cheers.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
30 Day Raw Fast--Begin.
During the next 30 days I'm going to blog once a day to document a much needed raw food fast. The idea of blogging about it was probably the last thing on my mind because, as we all know, it's not the best thing to draw attention to yourself when you're fasting. It causes people to be impressed by what you're doing and then self-glorification is your only reward. Fasts are about much more than upping your ego. Fasting is a willful release from the things that bind you and it's a painful and ugly process. It uproots your emotions, causes your body to freak out with toxic elimination, and creates moodiness that changes from elation to rage in a matter of minutes. It SUCKS. Maybe more for me than anyone else. But food is a major, major vice in my life. I've gone on fasts, the longest stint being 8 days on juice. But on the 8th day, I wasn't quitting because I felt like I was finished. I quit because I was hungry. Which proved to me that I was still a slave to hunger. I had not yet become its master.
I've heard powerful testimonies from people who fast for long durations. I've only been able to catch glimpses of the change. I've never been able to be fully set free. So, I'm trying again. I have God on my side, which is a blessing and means I won't have to rely solely on the weak muscle strength of my will. But that also means I'm going to have to deal with the breaking of spiritual chains and bondage, not just physical. Which definitely ups the struggle.
So, why am I blogging about this? Well, accountability for one reason. Although, I am aware that probably only two people read this blog, and that I could have accountability of every friend in my life and I would still rebel in one way or another. I know that my success will never come from accountability. If anything, accountability is simply a reminder of what I'm doing and why. Secondly, I want to be able to lay out, day by day, the progression of this fast--the spiritual high, the inevitable rage, the grief, the detox symptoms, the transformation--and see the ebb and flow of 30 days of deprivation from my biggest go-to comfort source.
I'm not excited about this. Mostly because I've tried diets like this probably 100 times and fail by day 3 like clockwork. I'm ridiculously good at convincing myself out of these types of things--telling myself that it's not healthy, that I don't need it or that 7 days is long enough. But I know, deep in my heart, that this is right and necessary. So, here's my documentation of how I currently feel and my written commitment to these next 30 days. Watch me try to fight it like a crack head in a matter of hours.
Happy Easter tomorrow. God, thank you for being alive. Accept this sacrifice. As small as it is, it's the greatest thing I can offer you at this point.
I've heard powerful testimonies from people who fast for long durations. I've only been able to catch glimpses of the change. I've never been able to be fully set free. So, I'm trying again. I have God on my side, which is a blessing and means I won't have to rely solely on the weak muscle strength of my will. But that also means I'm going to have to deal with the breaking of spiritual chains and bondage, not just physical. Which definitely ups the struggle.
So, why am I blogging about this? Well, accountability for one reason. Although, I am aware that probably only two people read this blog, and that I could have accountability of every friend in my life and I would still rebel in one way or another. I know that my success will never come from accountability. If anything, accountability is simply a reminder of what I'm doing and why. Secondly, I want to be able to lay out, day by day, the progression of this fast--the spiritual high, the inevitable rage, the grief, the detox symptoms, the transformation--and see the ebb and flow of 30 days of deprivation from my biggest go-to comfort source.
I'm not excited about this. Mostly because I've tried diets like this probably 100 times and fail by day 3 like clockwork. I'm ridiculously good at convincing myself out of these types of things--telling myself that it's not healthy, that I don't need it or that 7 days is long enough. But I know, deep in my heart, that this is right and necessary. So, here's my documentation of how I currently feel and my written commitment to these next 30 days. Watch me try to fight it like a crack head in a matter of hours.
Happy Easter tomorrow. God, thank you for being alive. Accept this sacrifice. As small as it is, it's the greatest thing I can offer you at this point.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Fasting and Solitude does not equal Deprivation and Loneliness
Fasting And Solitude
By
Ron Lagerquist
“Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”
Luke 5:16
Ron Lagerquist
“Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”
Luke 5:16
“Make peace with solitude and you will never be the same. The result will be autonomous, independent living that will free you to explore your creative side and God-given destiny.”
Since my first expedition into the wilds of the Canadian north at age twenty-one, I have had a romantic love/hate relationship with solitude. Stripping my daily needs down to a canoe and two backpacks, off I would go, often for two weeks. Parking my car, loading my canoe, and paddling on the first lake, there were day-trippers to keep me company, families who wanted a taste of unpopulated shorelines without the rigors of leaving behind the car and tent trailer. The first portage into the next lake culls away the day-trippers, leaving a more serious folk, marked by their rugged gear and determined visage. Each portage thins the paddlers and, once deep enough in, it is not uncommon to have an entire lake to myself. A lake announces its solitude at night with the absence of distant flickering fires; instead, there is the darkness of the sky silhouetted by the deeper darkness of treetops. The only sounds are nocturnal creatures, the frequent wail of loon-song, and whispering inner voices.
On my previous wilderness trips with friends, I would often sit on a rock by the water, wondering if I would ever have the courage to venture out here alone. There was a longing to remove myself from the man-pack in order to explore the solitude that called to me from across the waves. Finally, at age 45, I mustered up the courage to do a solo canoe trip into the guts of Algonquin Park, a vast wilderness of hundreds of miles of portages joining over a thousand lakes. It was not bears or wolves that caused fear, but the thought of being alone for days with my own demons and no easy escape. Instinctively, I knew some great inner battle awaited me out there, one that I needed to face and win.
“How was your weekend?” “Busy,” I answer. It’s a good answer; I always feel good saying it. The questioner gives a nod of approval. After all, a weekend filled with work, hanging with friends, or family gatherings speaks of a successful, well-connected person. But what if I answered, “I did nothing but sit alone at home and meditate,” I might be met with a courteous smile masking pity or even mild suspicion. Human societies—even Christians—have always been a little distrustful of those who spend too much time alone, yet all of the famous figures of the bible spend a great deal of time alone. David, Moses, and many of the prophets were tempered in the fires of solitude. The desert was a symbol of fasting and solitude. Jesus, himself, left family and friends and ventured out into desolate hills to come face to face with his demon. In his weakest hour, he overcame tailor-made temptations offered to him by one who had been waiting.
Trial by fasting and solitude has involved some of my most painful moments. In the fires of solitude, the pretense of self-importance that comes from a busy life quickly falls away, revealing the stark reality of fears and insecurities that are always just below the surface. When life’s props are gone, the fragility and pending fatality of our humanness becomes exposed, which can leave you feeling naked and vulnerable. Being weakened by fasting only serves to enhance this feeling of vulnerability, forcing you to turn to your internal spiritual resources. If they are bankrupt due to lack of investment of quiet meditation and prayer, you will come face to face with a poverty of spirit within. I am convinced that spiritual poverty is at the root of addiction, whether it be to food, dysfunctional relationships, alcohol, or drugs. Addiction is a way to both dull and run away from a growing feeling of spiritual emptiness. Fasting and solitude stops running dead in its tracks, which is vital to breaking addictive behaviors.
Fifteen years of fasting and solitude finally developed within me the courage to venture into the wilds alone for eight days. I aimed a loaded canoe away from the access point and started paddling. As the park lodge and car faded behind me, there was a growing sense of anticipation of what lay ahead. The effect did not take long. Divorced from e-mail, cell phone, and internet, the silence of wilderness and solitude quickly allowed the ever-present voices of fear, guilt, and regret to move from the background to the foreground. During the second night, while on a lonely island, as the dying embers of the campfire allowed the darkness to embrace me, I realized how much my busyness had been simply running from the whispering words. But here on this island there was no escape, no drowning them out with TV or music. I was faced with one option: confront the voices head-on.
During the first four days of that trip, I faced some of the hardest moments of my life. Waves of guilt and regret assaulted me, faces of the people I had failed were marched across my memory. A broken marriage, secret sin, lust, envy, and unforgiveness filled my guts with bile. Doubt battered me on every side. The authenticity of every good thing I had done was in question—even the motives behind all my writing. There was no God, no loving Savior, only a blue sky filled with the weight of sin and regret. After four days of choking guilt, it finally came; in the deepest crisis of shame, Christ broke through with His grace. This was the unfinished business of my salvation, waiting for me when I had the courage to go deeper into my own sinfulness, so I could discover the depth of God’s love. Accepting God’s forgiveness allowed me to forgive myself and put to rest the accusing voices from which I had been fleeing. Solitude transformed from a terrifying unknown to a sanctuary of fellowship with God.
The harder it is for you to be alone, the more valuable fasting and solitude will be to exact personal freedom. A person who is content with being alone and has made peace with solitude will never be the same. The result will be autonomous, independent living that will free you to explore your creative side and God-given destiny.
No longer afraid to be alone, I am guarded from all kinds of grief, including entering into dysfunctional relationships. Greatest of all, I am experiencing a whole new level of intimacy with God. Alone with God. Alone, silent, and listening. The whispers of guilt and fear are still there, but I am no longer afraid of them. There is a greater truth than sin and shame: God’s grace and forgiveness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
