It's not the first time I've done it; it hopefully won't be the last. But it was definitely the first one that I ever felt like I did "right." I have given up food for longer periods of time than even one day, but this day... was different. Let me back up for a second.
The Thursday before last was bad. I have gotten so involved at my school that by the time the week starts drawing to a close, I'm pretty much stressed out and exhausted. What's worse is that I have probably gone a whole week, by that point, without really taking in any of God's word for myself or spending much time in prayer (that makes me a horrible person, I know, I know). And the Thursday before last was no exception. So when it came to a close, I was pretty much already closed; closed to God, closed to sensitivity to Him, closed to holding on tight to faith and love and hope. I was struggling, and I was failing. It wasn't a good day.
So I decided to fast on Friday. Normally when I would fast I would devote the day to reading and praying, but since I was feeling still sort of numb to God, I didn't do that. Instead, I gave up everything: food, TV, books, computer... Everything, and decided that I would just try and live the day as I thought God would see best, even if I couldn't feel Him. As C.S. Lewis talked about in Screwtape Letters, the biggest threat to evil is when a man does not see, feel, or hear God, and yet still follows Him despite it all.
So when a person is fasting... what is it that God really wants?
Isaiah 58 comes to mind. A true fast isn't about what you give up... so many Christians think that being a "good Christian" is about what you give up... but a true fast is about what you DO. And in that chapter, He says that He wants those who fast to bring forth justice to the peoples, and to be broken and humble in their hearts. So I left town after my first class and went to Jackson to look for ways to bring justice to people, to be humbled, to be... Him.
I decided I'd let God guide me. And He did. I pulled into a warehouse labeled "RIFA" ("Regional Inter-Faith Association") and parked my car in sort of a sketchy-looking neighborhood with a sketchy looking crowd standing around. But I smiled and got out and walk into the warehouse. I met Shaun, the director of RIFA, and immediately we started talking about ways to get involved. He showed me around the warehouse, and I got to meet several volunteers; but what was awesome was to go back into the soup kitchen, where I'll be working more than anywhere else, and meet the people there. It was a truly humbling experience. I watched the director of the soup kitchen standing at the door, smiling, shaking hands, and saying "God bless" to everyone who left. I watched the lady serving food behind the counter look at me in the eye and just give one of the biggest, most genuine, and yet snaggle-toothed smiles that I have ever seen. It was a great thing to be back in an environment where I felt I could make a difference.
When I left RIFA, I wasn't content to be finished with my adventure yet. I pulled my car further down the street into the Farmer's Market and parked it there. I walked around, talked to the farmers and the "interesting" people that were hanging out by them, bought a few tomatoes and peppers (just because I was fasting doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about making omelettes for Saturday morning), and spent a lot of time talking to one farmer who was obviously a very lonely, old man. Eventually I walked back to my car and... it wouldn't start.
Oh God, why are you doing this to me in this part of town...
But looking back, it was a blessing. I was approached by a ragged looking man on a bicycle, asking if he could bum a few cigarettes off of me. I told him I didn't have any, and he was pretty sad about that. But I gave him some money and wished him well, and that cheered him up. And yes, he probably went and used that money for cigarettes or alcohol, but I am not troubled by this thought; I gave him the money, and what he does with it is his business. It was my blessing to him, and I hope he uses it wisely, but whether he does or not will not stop me from trying to be Jesus to somebody.
I went back to school for my afternoon class, then packed up the bare minimum of stuff from my dorm and went home. My parents were in England, and I thought the house would be a great place to unwind and reflect. That night, I took three naps, and in between each nap I read Scripture. I really started connecting with God that night. It's hard not to when you've been trying to show His love to people all day and then you open His word; it's like the connection becomes a little easier.
At about 12:30 AM, when the fast was officially over, I woke up and went to Huddle House. I sat at the table and read Scripture while I ate my eggs, toast, and hashbrowns. The waitress was kind, and talked with me for a bit about me reading Scripture. As I left, I left her a tip that was more than my meal and wrote "God bless" at the top of the check. She saw it, and looked at me as I was walking out the door. I just smiled. And she smiled back; a very real smile.
If you haven't ever heard it, I recommend that you listen to (or at least read the words to) "Instead of a Show" by Jon Foreman.
And if you hear it (or read the words) and think that it's idealistic, or liberal, or anything other than the truth, check yourself: its from Zechariah 7. The Lord doesn't want your showy worship any longer; He wants your heart broken, and for you to spread a flood of justice to the people in His world who have been overlooked for far too long.
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