Fasting

I haven’t fasted for years. Sometimes I have tried, but I usually only lasted a few hours before I gave up.

Today I decided to fast.

I was struggling with insecurity in relationships. A friendship at work was strained, and I wasn’t sure how to break down the walls that had been built. I always pride myself on being able to get along with everyone. But sometimes people refuse to get along with you. They don’t want your friendship. That hurts.

I was struggling with feeling rejected by another friend. It felt like it was all up to me and I failed. I was struggling to keep the negative thoughts at bay. When the Holy Spirit put the idea to fast in my head.

People have different ideas about what fasting is. Sometimes it’s influenced by what we’ve learned as children or read in the Bible or other books. For me the purpose of fasting is to learn to depend upon God to meet my needs—physically and spiritually. Going without food is a way to help me focus on God. When I’m hungry, I pray and think about God instead of eating. So I decided to fast from food for a day.  

I hesitate to even blog about this because I don’t want you to think that I’m super-spiritual. To be honest, this was the first time in over 15 years that I’ve fasted. So it’s not like fasting is a big spiritual discipline for me. It’s because I was weak that I felt that I needed to fast. Here’s my account of my day.

9:00 AM—I’m at work. Things are busy and tense. I feel God calling me to fast for the day. I decide to drink only liquids for the entire day. (I had already had a bowl of Cherrios for breakfast.)

10:00 AM—I refill my cup at the coffee bar at work. Every day for the last week, new holiday treats have littered the counter. Today is no different. An array of Christmas cookies and candies cover the counter. It’s crazy how much food there is. What a great time of year to fast! But I’m focused. I don’t want sugary treats. They are sweet, but won’t satisfy. I meditate on how God has provided for all my needs. I want God more than those treats.

10:45 AM—I e-mail a few friends and ask them to pray for me today.

11:00 AM—The morning has flown by. I’m busy with several projects at work. I feel pangs of hunger, but I’m focused on my goal. I can depend upon God. He is my strength in time of need.

1:00 PM—I begin to think about how most people in the world feel hungry all the time. I have chosen to go hungry for one day. Some people go days without food. I can walk to the refrigerator and eat something anytime I want. I have a new appreciation for what I have and what people in poverty go through every day.

2:30 PM—There is a party for our president at work. Birthday cake is served, but because I’m not eating I sing and then leave. I feel a little antisocial. There’s something about food that unites people. I’m reminded that I’m a stranger on this earth. This isn’t my true home. I’ve got a family waiting for me in heaven. I feel peaceful.

3:30 PM—Now comes the real test. I pick up my kids from school. When I’m hungry, I’m usually very grumpy. I’m short tempered with my family. I remind myself that God will help me. I depend upon him. Amazingly when my kids fight over their favorite chair, I don’t yell. I calmly tell them that they are going to take turns sitting in the chair. If they rush in the door and jump in the chair, they will forfeit their opportunity to sit in the chair. Wow! The Holy Spirit really came through that time.

5:00 PM —Dinnertime. I slip up once as I’m cooking the spaghetti and pop a strand in my mouth to see if it’s done. I feel a little guilty. I realize how I often eat something without even thinking about it. It’s a reflex, not a choice. I think about how sometimes I respond to situations in anger, fear, or hurt as an impulse. But I’m not impulses. I can feel those emotions and then choose to dwell on them or to surrender them to God and ask him to transform them through the light of his truth.

5:30 PM—I sit down to eat with my family. I actually think about serving them instead of how soon I can eat. Instead of shoveling the food into my mouth, I focus on what each person is saying. My mind seems clearer. I use my hunger pains to remind me to focus more sharply on what my family members are saying. The French bread they are eating looks really good. I love a nice crusty bread, but I resist.

7:30 PM—My head hurts. My stomach aches. I keep drinking water and coffee. It staves off the hunger for a little while. I read John 6. It’s all about bread. Jesus feeds 5,000 people with a few fish and loaves of bread. The next day the crowd comes looking for Jesus. However, he realizes that it’s not him and his message they want, but more food. He tells them that he is the bread of life, that anyone who comes to him must eat his flesh and drink his blood and then they will have eternal life. Gross, huh? Yeah, the crowd didn’t like it too much. They thought it was too difficult. But that’s the point. You take a risk when you put all your eggs in the Jesus basket. It’s all or nothing, but what you get is so much greater than anything this world can offer---eternal life, relationship with God. These truths take on new meaning when your stomach is empty and a chorus of stomach rumblings fill your ears. How far will you go, Andrea?

Give me the true bread. I long for eternal life. I am nothing without you.

9:30 PM—I drink some hot chocolate with egg nog, and my stomach hurts. I think it was too rich. I read John 6 again once more before bed. I try to meditate on the truth. Jesus is the bread of life. I go to sleep.

6:00 AM—I wake up and make some coffee. I don’t feel hungry at all. My mind is clear. It seems that the Holy Spirit is teaching me about the relationships I am struggling with. I try to listen. I meditate on John 6.

“Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that endures to eternal life, which the son of Man will give you.”

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh which I will give for the life of the world.”

“Very truly I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me and I live because of the Father, so the one who feeds on me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven. Your ancestors ate manna and died, but whoever feeds on this bread will live forever.”

These are tough words to swallow when your stomach is full, but when you are hungry, you realize how much you need God. When there is no food in your belly, you realize you are weak and frail.

Taking away food for a day and replacing it with mindful meditation on God was a really helpful spiritual exercise for me. I believe the Holy Spirit will use it again in my life to bring clarity and humility to my relationship with God.

Perfection

I looked back at the date of my last post. It's been over two weeks since I've posted. Immediately I feel guilty. I should be posting more. Why don't I?

I could use the old "I'm busy" excuse. I could list all of the stuff I have to juggle—work, family, church, house. . . on an on it goes. (Are you asleep yet?) I know you can relate.

But the truth of the matter is that I don't blog more because I am a perfectionist.

If you only knew how I agonize over every word of everything I write. First I go back and forth about the topic. Is this relevant? Can I really speak to these ideas? Will it have any impact on the readers? Then I fret about the writing itself.  I read and reread each post, trying to make it better. When it's finally "done," I sit with my finger poised over the publish button. Should I or shouldn't I? Is it really good enough? Are there any grammar mistakes? (Oh, the life of an editor!) ARRRRGGGGH!

I know what the real problem is. I'm addicted to having to be perfect. I've struggled with perfectionism for years, and I know I'm not the only one. Most women today feel the pressure to be perfect in some area of their lives—to have the perfect home, the perfect children, the perfect appearance, the perfect marriage. It's insane the lengths we go to create the illusion that our lives are straight out of Martha Stewart Living (or Focus on the Family.)

When my illusion of the perfect life starts to crack, I resort to all kinds of tricks to get things back together. I yell. I manipulate. I bribe. It's not pretty. I end up hurting the people I love the most.

What about in the Bible, aren't we commanded to be perfect? "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:48) I did a little study of the word "perfect" and I found out that it doesn't have anything to do with being flawless or without sin.  Instead it means to be mature or complete. Many verses that discuss perfection explain the type of attitude a mature person.

A mature person . . .

• loves her enemies
• endures hardship 
• knows that she is being made mature through Christ's sacrifice on the cross
• is not ruled by fear
• is more mature when she is weak than when she is strong (because then she has to depend upon God.)

That last one really gets me to thinking. My addiction to perfection is really a desire to play God. It's totally up to me to craft my little flawless world. Perfectionism is really selfishness. My kids need to be well-behaved and perfectly dressed. No one can ever have a bad attitude. Discipline is more about controlling behavior than training in love. 

I think it's also related to my desire to please people. If everything looks good in my life, people will praise me. But I think perfectionism pushes people away. Who wants to be a friend with someone who has no problems? Her perfect life only highlights the problems in my only life. And what happens when I can't live up to her standards? 

What if I focused on the biblical idea of being mature instead of being perfect? What would that look like? Maturity realizes that sometimes it's sometimes more important to spend time with my husband than clean my house. Maturity allows children to make mistakes. Maybe I'd realize that kids will sometimes have bad attitudes and I could see it as an opportunity to train kids instead of as an affront to my authority. Maturity knows when something is a big deal and when something really doesn't matter. Maturity offers grace to people instead of condemnation. 

So I'm going to take a step toward freedom from perfectionism and stop writing right now. I know this blog isn't perfect. There are probably spelling mistakes and phrases that don't make sense. It could be much clearer and more effective. I could rewrite it until I think it's perfect, but I'm not going to. It's not perfect and that's okay. 

I'm hitting publish . . . 

I can't hear you!

Recently a friend and I were talking about how much we avoid silence. We fill every moment of the day with sound—the radio, the television, music. If I happen to have some time alone in the house, it's eerie. I can't stand the quiet. After about five minutes, I'm running for my ipod and filling the house with noise.

Filling every moment of the day with sound keeps me from being able to hear what is really important--God's still, small voice. Often in the Bible God's followers must get away and be quiet in order for him to speak to them. Moses heard God's whispering on the mountain, Jesus in the desert.

Why don't I take more time to sit in silence and talk to God and then listen to him speak to me? Sometimes I think I'm scared of what I might hear. I don't really want to know when I've sinned or how God is calling me to change. But when I'm quiet, I also hear the things I long to hear from my God--"I love you. You are my precious child. I have a plan for you. You can trust me." When I avoid quiet time because I don't want to hear the hard things, I also miss out on the words of comfort.

Somehow sitting quietly doesn't feel like I'm accomplishing anything. I love to read my Bible. I just feel like I'm filling up my spiritual gas tank. I can count how many verses I've read or how many blanks I've filled in my study guide. I'm making progress. I can check it off the list. But how do you measure what is accomplished by stillness before an awesome God? How do you measure intimacy with God?

Recently, I've felt led to turn off the radio in my car on the way to work. Usually I listen to the news or to Christian radio. These aren't bad and can be good and encouraging, but I want more. I want some time to pray for people in my life and listen to how God wants to use me to encourage them. I need to offer some challenging situations to God and then listen for his eternal perspective on them. He has given us the Holy Spirit to indwell us and to teach us the truth. But how can I learn if I'm not paying attention?

I'm excited to get away for part of the day next Saturday at the ladies' retreat. I know that God is always ready to speak. When we take time to listen, he murmurs his words of love and encouragement. God won't yell at you over drone of the television. He waits in the silence for you to come to him. What are you waiting for?

Romans 8:35-39

“Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love?”

“Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or are hungry or cold or in danger or threatened with death? . . .”

Does it mean he longer loves us if our car doesn’t start or our business never takes off?

What about if the cancer returns or the surgery didn’t work?

What if I lose my job or my house or my retirement savings?

Does it mean he no longer loves us if the only car we can afford is a ten-year-old lemon or if our house is a “fixer-upper”?

Does it mean he no longer loves us if our kids rebel, our parents get divorced, or our spouse has an affair?

No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.

If this is true then, Christ’s love for us is not demonstrated by an abundance of blessings or a lack of trouble. God’s love for us is not measured by the size of our bank account or our popularity in our social circle.

Victory is ours. The ultimate foes—sin, Satan, and death—are defeated through Christ Jesus. Could the physical troubles of this world pale in comparison to the spiritual promises of knowing Jesus?

“And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from his love. Death can’t, and life can’t. The angels can’t, and the demons can’t.”

Controlling in-laws, and whiny children can’t. Bankruptcy can’t, and the tax auditor can’t.

My own fickle feelings about whether God loves me can't separate me from God's love

“Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, and even the powers of hell can’t keep God’s love away.”

Not my own stupidity or foolish choices. The times when I run head long into sin or the times when I inch up as close as I can get and dip my little toe into evil. Nothing can keep God’s love away.

Satan, the deceiver, and all his minions of tricky little demons can put all their heads together and try as they might they can’t keep God’s love away.

Because God's love isn't based upon me, it's based upon his unchangeable character.

“Whether we are high above the sky or in the deepest ocean, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Jesus Christ our Lord.”

There is nowhere, no how, no place on earth, under the earth, or in heaven that will separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

Amen. Amen. Amen.

Romans 8:35–39

A Sinking Feeling

 It's late at night and there's a storm at sea. The winds are howling, and a ship full of rough fishermen are scared. They're rowing against the wind, trying to stay afloat, wondering if they are going to make it to shore.

Suddenly, one of them points to something out in the distance. The others follow his finger to a shadowy figure hovering over the water. Wait, it's not hovering. It's moving directly toward the boat. This boat full of rough sailors begins to scream like little girls. AHHH! A ghost!

Peering over the side of the boat, Peter suddenly hears Jesus' voice. Wait a minute. It's not a ghost; it's Jesus. "It's alright! I'm here!" Jesus calls out.

Now Peter could've left it at that. He could have sighed with relief and wonder and chalked it up as another incredible feat of this miracle man, but he didn't.

Perhaps Peter's mind was filled with the amazing miracle he had witnessed earlier that evening when he had seen Jesus take an afternoon snack and transform it into dinner for over five thousand people. Perhaps Jesus' challenge to the disciples, when they suggested that the people should go home and eat, was still ringing in his ears. "You feed them." Rather than believe in the power of Jesus, the disciples had just looked at each other in disbelief. "How are we going to that with just a little bread and some fish?"

With this embarrassing display of faithlessness still fresh in his mind, Peter wasn't going to be ashamed again. If it really was Jesus (and not a ghost!) out there, Peter was going to show him that he had faith this time. Peter cries out,  "Lord, if it is you. Tell me to come to you on the water!"

The wind howled. Rain blinded him. But he heard Jesus' voice loud and clear: "Come on."

One leg over the side of the boat, then the other. No time to think, just go. Waves beat against him, but he's not sinking. He's gliding on the water. It's working. He's doing it. . . He's walking to Jesus. He's passing the faith test.

But the waves are so high; the wind so strong. Fear sinks in and pulls him down into the water. But Jesus is there instantly, pulling him up out of the water and into the safety of the boat. Then and only then, the wind stops. The lake becomes a smooth mirror reflecting the pale moon.

Then the entire boat bursts out in praise. If they didn't believe before, they certainly believe now. Jesus is the Son of God.

But Peter sits in the bottom of the boat in a puddle of water. He is still thinking about Jesus' words to him as He reached out and saved him from a one-way trip to the bottom of the lake: "You don't have much faith. Why did you doubt me?"

"You don't have much faith" is an observation, but it must have hurt Peter. His rating on the faith-o-meter ranked somewhere between a pinch and a smidgin. He's not going to be voted the most faith-filled disciple any time soon.

"Why did you doubt me?" I'm pretty sure Jesus means this as a rhetorical question. He's not really looking for an answer. He just wants Peter to mull it over a little bit. "What's holding you back from completely trusting in me?" he queries.

Let's leave Peter shivering in the bottom of the boat for a moment and fast-forward to Matthew chapter 15, where a Gentile (!) woman (!!) is praised for her faith. Ouch! That had to hurt the egos of Peter and his macho Jewish friends.

But wait, there's more. In verses 32–39, once again there's a crowd of people to feed. Certainly this time the disciples will remember the miracle Jesus performed before. Certainly they'll believe that Jesus will provide for the crowd. Nope. Once again, Peter and the disciples are throwing their hands in the air. "Where would we get enough food out here in the wilderness?" they ask Jesus.

But don't count Peter out just yet. In Matthew 16 Jesus asks his disciples who they think he is, and Peter is first one to pipe up, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." Then Peter gets some awesome affirmations from Jesus. Jesus blesses him and gives him a glimpse into how he will used to further the kingdom of God.

Back to Peter in the bottom of the boat. Think about this: no one else even attempted to get out of the boat. Just a few hours before, Peter had refused to believe that Jesus could provide food for thousands of people. Now his eyes were open to the possibility of what he could do with God's help. In Peter's water-walking (or perhaps water-falling), there is spiritual progress. His faith had grown a little.

Jesus doesn't see Peter's failure as permanent, but as an part of a journey. Jesus makes an honest judgement when he says, "You don't have much faith." There's not much, but there's some. That means there is room for growth. Then Jesus poses a question to help Peter get to the crux of his unbelief. "Why did you doubt me?" I like the fact that the verb is past tense. It's not "Why do you doubt me?" It's almost like Jesus sees the doubt as something that happened in one instance, but he doesn't consider it a continual part of Peter's life. Jesus is already looked ahead to Peter's faith growing and increasing.

Maybe in your life right now you can totally relate to Peter curled up in the fetal position in the bottom of the boat. You were in the middle of the storm, and you stepped out in faith. You gave it your best shot, but the wind was too strong. You sank. This isn't the end of your story. Keep on learning from Jesus. Keep reading the Word and praying. You can't see what the next chapter in the book is, but it might be a faith triumph.

Like Peter, take the opportunity to learn from failure. Take the time to ponder those hard questions: Why do I doubt? What is holding me back from completely trusting God? Someone said that we learn more from failure than we ever learn from success. Instead of running from the shame and disappointment, ask God to forgive you and heal the broken places.

Remember that when Jesus got back into boat, the storm instantly disappeared and everyone in the boat worshiped him. In your struggle, remember to praise the God who rescued you even when you deserved to sink.

I wonder if later when they were safely on shore, the disciples didn't give Peter a rough time about his walk that turned into a swim. And I wonder if Peter didn't later come to realize that what appeared to be a huge failure was the first step to deep faith.

Don't let that sinking feeling get you down. Keep on getting out of the boat and walking toward Jesus.

How Does Our Garden Grow?

I love buying fresh flowers. Roses, gerbera daisies, lilies. I can't resist them. It's amazing how a vase of flowers can brighten an entire room.

Unfortunately, cut flowers don't last long. After a few days their blossoms fades; after a week they are brown and wilted. Flowers that I grow in my garden are a lot more work, but also much more gratifying.

If you've ever tried to grow flowers, you know that it's not easy. You have to plant the seeds according the specific directions on those tiny little packages. Care must be taken to water the seeds every day. When the seedlings appear, you must pull up some of them, or the plants will grow too closely together and choke each other. Then of course there is constant weeding and watering. Oh, yes, fertilizer helps too.

It takes months of persistent care for the plant to finally produce a flower. When it does, it is a beautiful thing.

That's why our Women's Ministry is called "Bloom." When a plant reaches its full potential, it bursts forth in color and fragrance. It's a visual display of the healthy growth of the plant. In the same way, when a women is maturing spiritually, she is truly beautiful, bring joy to everyone in her life.

But flowers in a garden don't bloom by chance. And unlike cut flowers, you can't just buy your spiritual maturity next to the hand sanitizer in the checkout aisle at Wal-mart. There's a Spirit-led process that starts with a tiny seed of faith. That seed of faith needs fertilizer: the Word of God, prayer, and the encouragement of other Christians.

The goal of Bloom is to help all women become fully-devoted followers of Jesus Christ. In order for all the women of Rechurch to bloom the way God intends, we have planned events that will help women grow from seed to flower.

Plant the Seeds—opportunities to experience God's love through friendship. Great for women who aren't yet believers or for women who long to take the first steps to get to know other women.

• Bunko the 2nd Thursday of the month, 7 PM, meeting in various homes. We need people to host and provide simple snacks. 

Apply the Fertilizer—times for concentrated spiritual growth through small groups, retreats, and conferences where women can dig into God's Word and apply its truth to their lives.

• Ladies' small group on Monday nights from 6-8 p.m.
• Mini-retreat on Saturday, October 16 from 8 to 1 p.m.

Growing the Garden—events and outings to help women connect with other women.

• Shopping trip planned for November or early December.  Details to be announced.

Bloom in the Community—opportunities to spread God's love in the community though service projects.

• If you have an idea of how we can do this, let me know!

Whether your faith seems like a tiny seed or you're blooming like crazy, you belong at Rechurch. Together, we are God's incredible garden filled with flowers of every shape and color. Don't let fear or busyness hold you back. Together we can bloom.

What are you waiting for? Come on. Let's grow!

andrea

Minor Prophet, Major Message

Ever read the book of Hosea? It's one of those minor prophets—those brief books at the end of the Old Testament that never get a lot of playing time during Sunday morning services.

I'm thinking that back in the day, it was pretty cool to be a prophet—even a minor one. Prophets listened to God's message and then passed that message along to Israel. Sometimes God even used you to do some cool miracles, you know, healing people or making the food in poor people's pantry last for years. Sometimes you were one of those unlucky prophets who had to tell a bad king to shape up. That's why some prophets ended up being public enemy number one.

Hosea was one of those unlucky prophets with a strange calling from God. I'm sure when God first called him was like "Okay, God, I'm really excited about my mission. What's it going to be? I kind of like the whole Elijah thing, where it doesn't rain for a long time, but ravens show up with food for me. Although wouldn't it be more cool to have like, I don't know, lions bring me the food? You know it might show off your skills and add a little dramatic flare to the story when people are telling it years later around the campfire. Of course, I'd be just as happy to make the sun stand still or heal a leper. Whatever YOU want, God."


I can imagine Hosea's disappointment when God tells him that the central job of his prophetic career is to  go and marry a prostitute. But to his credit, Hosea obeys God. He marries Gomer. (You'd think she'd have the sense to change her name to something more appealing like Lola or Candy.) Then Hosea and Gomer have a son, and God tells Hosea to name him after a place where a horrible massacre took place. Imagine naming your kid Hiroshima. Then Hosea and Gomer have a few more kids, and God tells them to name them stuff like "Not loved" and "Not my people." Nice. Just make it easy for the bullies at school.

Gomer runs away and become a prostitute again and God tells Hosea to go get her and buy her back from slavery. Hosea does. Why? What is the point? My husband says that it's like performance art on a huge scale. Everyone is looking at Hosea saying, "Dude, you are crazy. Why did you marry a whore? Why didn't you let her go when she bolted? She's no good. You're better off without her." But God was making a point.

Then comes Hosea's shining moment. He stands up on his soap box in front of all of Israel and says, "This is a picture of you and God. Can you guess who is the whore? That's right. It's you, Israel. You've been running after false gods, cheating on me, treating yourselves with no respect, getting involved in every sin in the book. Yet, I still want you. I want you to come back. I'm not going to start over with some other people. I want you."

In the book of Hosea, God shows his dark side. He says he's going to do some pretty awful things to Judah and Israel. (The two kingdoms which make up the nation of Israel at this point in the Old Testament.) Reading the book of Hosea without a New Testament perspective is pretty scary. God seems rude and angry, hell-bent on punishing his wayward people. As I read it, my stomach churned at the violence described. I kept wondering, "God, what is going on? Why are you acting like some angry man who's been cheated on?"

Then I came to chapter 11. God describes his relationship with his people as a father who lovingly cares for a little child. He mourns for them and he comes to a decision:

My people are hell-bent on leaving me. 
   They pray to god Baal for help. 
   He doesn't lift a finger to help them.
But how can I give up on you, Ephraim? 
   How can I turn you loose, Israel?
How can I leave you to be ruined like Admah, 
   devastated like luckless Zeboim?
I can't bear to even think such thoughts. 
   My insides churn in protest.
And so I'm not going to act on my anger. 
   I'm not going to destroy Ephraim.
And why? Because I am God and not a human. 
   I'm The Holy One and I'm here—in your very midst.


God, an emotional being, vents his deepest feelings, sharing his frustrations at being rejected by the people he created and rescued from slavery time and time again. Yet in the end, he can not totally forsake them. He disciplines them to bring them back. Yet he will not do the evil things he contemplated doing. Why? Because he is God and not human. He is holy and doesn't act the way we humans do. 


Our book club from church recently read Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. This excellent book weaves the basic elements of the story of Hosea and Gomer into an amazing story of unconditional love. The central character is a prostitute named Angel. Rivers deftly shapes the character of Angel so that the reader can get a glimpse of why Gomer ran from Hosea—and why we sometimes run from God. It's a great book, and I highly recommend reading it.
Amazing.