I woke up one morning recently at 5 am after a long season of fasting. These words literally hit me as I lay there in the dark. I could barely write them down fast enough as I fumbled to find something to write on. Later that morning I cleaned them up a bit at the donut shop. It was sweet moment with Case, my 3-year old grandson, as he listened to my musing across the table with his blueberry cake and chocolate milk. 🙂
Don’t even know what to call this poem. But here goes…
—-
Fasting so I can pray more. And praying for more strength to fast. Searching for the Everlasting God. Forsaking things that don’t last.
Didn’t know how busy I wasn’t, until I gave Him some time. Denying the body frees up the heart. I saw what I didn’t need when I left it behind.
Fasting is hard. But not as hard as I make my life. And what I give up I rarely miss. What I fill myself with leaves me empty, not satisfied.
It’s not just giving things up. It’s freeing me up to give. It’s not about consumption, but dependence and restraint. Giving up what slowly kills me so I can truly live.
Pain is not suffering. Others suffer far more than me. And when all my striving fades. see the cross, and sit at His feet.
His strength is perfect…when I give up what makes me weak. Sometimes I feel guilty when I break my fast. Then I lose my appetite for what I used to seek.
Fasting is not just about food I forsake. That’s not why the manna was just for one day. The “food” we really need we don’t consume enough. And all the things we consume we don’t need anyway.
Thank God for fasting! Denying what I thought was mine. When my futile attempts are gone. Fasting is a blessing not a sacrifice.
Life at the the beginning of fasting, Looks very different at the end. So I wrote this to remind myself, To trust God like this again and again.