Category Archives: Devotional Thoughts

“How do you think God will use this?”

“I don’t know” I snarkily replied.

“Well, maybe God wants to teach you about grace.”

Let’s back up for a moment and talk about the team. One of the main highlights of this experience was the Team Spirit.

At first, I wasn’t sure whether this fast would be private or corporate. I knew that Lou Engle warns against trying to go it alone, and encourages those engaging in 40-day fasts to have a buddy or a small group, for support, encouragement, accountability. But then, you certainly can’t force anyone else to fast, so while I wanted to do it with a group, I didn’t want to obligate or overtly ask anyone. The only thing worse than going without (most) food for 40 days would be to do it against your will!

Thankfully, I didn’t have to look far for my first fasting buddy. Jeff immediately said he was in. He also read The Jesus Fast and shared my conviction that we should embark on this together. So, we bought copies of the book for our church leaders, and let them know we’d be doing a 40-day fast and that no one was obligated but all were invited. We didn’t bring it up again, so I had no way of knowing who was joining along.

It wasn’t until the night before the fast began that I knew who the team was. There were 10 of us total, 7 ladies and 3 men, taking part in various types of fasts for the 40 days. Each one was a little different, but the fun part was each one was tailor-made for that particular person. Each of us had prayed and asked the Lord to show us what our unique fast was, so we could move forward in confidence. In every case, the Lord graciously pinpointed those things we tend to “turn to” instead of Him. Each one was specific, and challenging in its own way. (One of the men had to end the fast after a few days because the light-headedness made his job too dangerous, but he continued steadfastly in prayer, still with us in spirit. Another gal joined later, and did 30 days.)

Knowing we were doing this together, as a team, made all the difference in the world. We could laugh together, cry together, send SOS texts when we were so tired or grumpy or just plain feeling so DONE with fasting that we needed some emergency prayer. In fact, a few of us had a daily touch-base group text with Scriptures, requests, and praises. For forty days straight we rallied in prayer for each other every single day. Team Spirit for the win!

While every relationship benefitted from joining together in this way, I was most impacted by seeing how fasting together blessed our marriage. It was so powerful to be going through this together, feeling the same symptoms, both feeling weak or tired and both committing to extended times in prayer. It was so helpful that no matter where we went, or what challenges came up, we were in it together. We could laugh with each other over slimy green smoothies, reminding each other we’d be able to chew soon enough.

I know not everyone has the luxury of a spouse or close friend that would do this type of thing, but can I just encourage you in saying: Pray for a friend who will seek hard after Jesus next to you. BE a friend who is seeking Jesus. Consider asking your spouse if he or she might want to fast one meal together, one day a week? Consider asking a friend if she’d like to fast lunch on Thursdays and pray together over the phone? It doesn’t have to be a big thing.

Every single time we go without, we say no to our flesh and yes to God, we experience His strength in new ways. How glorious it is to do that together. Throughout the Scriptures, in times of great need or crisis, God’s people have banded together to seek Him together through prayer and fasting, and He has always responded.

Are you considering a little (or big!) step into fasting? Consider asking your spouse or a friend if he or she would consider joining alongside you. You might just be so blessed to see the Team Spirit He builds in you both. 

{Thanks for reading.}

Day 2 and 3 were the hardest physically. While I was tired and cranky on day 1, I still felt kind of full from the previous day’s feast, but during days 2 and 3 I was just plain HUNGRY. I would have my shake around 8am, but be hungry by 10. I’d have my smoothie at noon, but feel hungry by 2pm. This just wasn’t going to work. On the afternoon of day 3 I told the Lord I was so hungry I felt like I was going to die. So I started praying about whether He’d maybe let me add a “snack” in around 3 or 4pm. Just like carrots. Anything. I didn’t need steak, just something to chew. Oh friends how I wanted a CARROT! Just a carrot! I prayed for a snack, hopeful that He’d hear my plea and respond with His ever lovingkindness.

He said no.

*sigh*

Ok, then, we were going to have to figure this out. And of course, we did. I learned in the days that followed that I could wait on having breakfast until 9 or 10am. It was easier to be hungry from 7-10am then it was from 2-5pm. I learned that if I waited to have my afternoon smoothie until 2pm or so, I could stretch to dinner a lot easier. Again, it was easier to be hungry earlier in the day than later.

But most of what helped was this simple assurance. When I was pouring out my complaint to the Lord, and telling Him I felt so hungry I was going to die, I heard so clearly:

“Your body isn’t going to die, your will is.” 

Yes. Of course. Of course this was the truth. My body would be fine. People live on much much less than this, every single day, all around the world. I was far from starving. I even checked my weight to be sure, and interestingly enough, I wasn’t even losing weight, so clearly I was fine.

I felt really hungry, but–hello!–that was a very natural consequence of fasting. Did I expect fasting wouldn’t include hunger? 

It was just that I’d never before felt this hungry. This was a whole different type than I’d felt before.

And it was good. I needed this. I needed to hear, “No.” I needed to learn to “make ends meet” with food, the same way people have to do when they don’t have enough money. I needed to learn to stretch out my meals and maybe rest a little more and pray a little more and make due with less. All of these lessons were good. I needed them.

And, thankfully, I even found that after the first three days, I actually felt great. No headaches. No stomachaches. No digestive issues. I slept great. My skin started looking clearer. Whoa! This was a surprise, you mean this fasting thing we were doing was actually good for my body too?!! 

You mean God actually wanted to bless me when He called me to go without?!

You mean God loves me so much He wanted me to abstain from things in order to help me feel better?!

You mean when the flesh dies our spirit comes to life?!

You mean I’m going to enjoy this whole crazy ordeal?!

Wonders never cease. 

Perhaps you’re thinking what I’m thinking at this point: Um, we haven’t even begun the actual fast yet! 

Right. I actually feel like most of the “heavy lifting” spiritually speaking, happened before the fast. As you’ll see, the actual fast itself was rather enjoyable!

Well, not quite. Maybe not the first few days. Of course, the first three days are the hardest. With anything new. There’s just no way to get around it. Day 1 was the worst. It was my birthday, and I woke in a sour mood because I was sort of dreading doing this first day at all. Plus, we’d had a feast the night before, a sort of “last supper” if you will, so I had a bit of a headache from the chocolate cake and sangria.

Of course I wanted coffee.

No coffee. 

(I should add, I actually did have tea on my fast. I prayed and felt freedom to do this, so I had two cups a day. But can I just say, tea is not coffee. That’s all, thanks.)

I confess: I was so grumpy that first morning and I don’t remember what happened but I’m pretty sure the kids and I were both in tears by 11am. Awesome birthday. Awesome first day seeking God’s presence and letting Him fill me with His glorious love and all these other sweet-sounding spiritual things that were NOT happening this day.

Thankfully, we got out of the house and visited my parents. My dad got me a chocolate cake, pizza, and a Coke. *blink blink* Of course I could have none of this so I watched my kids and parents celebrate my birthday, and I choked down some green slimy smoothie and wondered how on earth I was going to do this for 40 days without killing anyone.

That night, we took the kids to a play, and as we drove by the store, I suggested we could just swing by and I could get a kombucha. Kombucha’s ok, right? I mean, I was having tea and kombucha’s just basically tea that’s rotten.

Rotten tea should be fine, right?

Silence.

Jeff said fine, but I’ll tell you what, it happened again, that thing where God doesn’t let the world satisfy. I went into the Fred Meyer, ignoring the nagging lack of peace that kept hovering over my heart, and marched straight to the kombucha display.

I hoped it was on sale. It wasn’t. I hoped my favorite flavor was there. It wasn’t.

I took a deep breath. I reached for a bottle, then pulled my hand back. I reached again, then pulled my hand back. Oh good grief, Kari! You look like an idiot standing in front of the kombucha cooler, shifting back and forth on your feet like some moron stuck in indecision.

Finally, I sighed. Ok, Lord. I turned around, empty-handed, and walked back to the car. 

And I sulked just a little. See, the truth is, I’m not used to hearing ‘no.’ Most things I ask of the Lord are within His will, I’m honestly used to hearing a lot of “yeses”! And, quite frankly, I’m also quite accustomed to doing my own thing. I don’t like being told I can’t get a kombucha. I don’t like hearing no. I don’t like having no options.

I don’t like surrendering control. Here I was, on day ONE, already testing the boundaries of this fast, already asking for allowances and exceptions, already privately pouting that God had told me no. BUT, I knew His goodness, deep down, down deeper than my own desire for a tasty drink.

So I sipped my water and silently prayed that God would satisfy my soul with Himself.

So yeah, pretty much everything felt like dying at this point. 

I was trying to finalize the details of women’s Bible studies for the summer, figure out last minute details for our church’s Women’s Retreat retreat that was the weekend before the fast, prepare for a conference, help Jeff with some administrative details, serve meals for some single moms in our area–oh, homeschool our kids and make meals and like keep our house running–yeah, just lots going on and then there was this whole upcoming thing about eating almost nothing for 40 days. Grrr.

I felt so stressed. On top of that, several people close to me had had visions that seemed like warnings, that seemed alarming, that were very troubling to me. I started feeling anxious and fearful, but there was no time to entertain these emotions, there was too much to do.

Just. Keep. Moving. Keep checking off items and keep serving and keep helping. 

To be fair, I honestly didn’t realize I was exhausted and anxious. I tend to be very focused on tasks, what needs to be done, moving forward. I don’t sit around and think about my feelings very much. So I went into the women’s retreat weekend feeling just fine and looking forward to being with the ladies.

Actually, no. That’s not true. The real deep-down truth is I was willing to go because that was my responsibility and that was my thing to do, but I would’ve given anything to stay home and curl up in bed instead.

But that wasn’t an option.

So I went to the retreat, and it was great. Truth was taught, people prayed for, it was fabulous. But then Saturday night I started feeling that anxiety and fear and fatigue creep up, I could feel it hovering just beneath the surface, I could feel that I was about to cry, but wasn’t sure what the appropriate setting was. I couldn’t just blab about everything to everybody, I needed to be wise.

I crept into my room, into bed, in the dark, and everything gushed out in tears. I couldn’t make sense of what I was feeling, it was just overwhelm and sadness. I knew I should share with someone and have them pray over me, I wanted to, especially since this was a prime opportunity to be vulnerable and receive prayer, but I didn’t want to make a scene and honestly didn’t know who to talk to. So I crept up quietly and prayed that if one of the elders’ wives was available, not engaged in a conversation, that I’d ask them. But I went up and they were all busy talking, so I went back downstairs and tried to fall asleep.

But to my amazement, then someone opened the door and silently crawled into the bed on the other side of the room, and I realized it was my dear friend, one of our elders’ wives, someone I knew I could completely bare my heart to.

“Elisha? Is that you?”

“Yeah.”

And then I literally just crawled over on her bed and collapsed in her arms and sobbed on her for at least a half hour. Ha! Poor girl! I seriously don’t think I’ve ever cried that hard. It just all gushed out–anxiety and fear and overwhelm and fatigue and stuff I hadn’t even known that I was feeling. She listened for forever, prayed over me, shared some good and hard words of encouragement too, and I eventually went to sleep.

But I realized the next morning, as I reflected on the scriptures, that I had been one-sided in my relating with the Lord. I was serving. Serving, serving, serving. All I could think about was dying to self, dying the world, giving up my rights, giving up my food, serving and giving and doing and pouring out, out, out, out.

But in a glorious shift of perspective, I realized the Lord was wanting to FILL ME. I realized He was WOOING me. He was calling me away from things, not because I was in trouble, but because He wanted me. He wanted all of me. He wanted to call me away from all the busyness of cooking and eating and working and serving, and He wanted to drastically simplify my life for 40-days so that I could be with Him.

This fast was Him wooing me. It was His love that was leading me here.

During the retreat, each person had a chance to receive prayer, to have every other person lay hands on them and pray over them. During my turn, at the very end, people had visions of me sitting on my deck just basking in the sunshine. They kept saying God was wooing me, calling me away from all the busyness to just be with Him and be filled.

I was so overwhelmed with joy and relief. I could physically feel the change in my body. I came home restful, filled, at peace. From that moment on, everything felt restful. Everything changed. The anxiety left. The fear vanished. I actually got excited for the fast! Yes, there would be an emptying, but there was a “filling” in store that I couldn’t even fathom.

He was going to fill my life with His love. 

{Until next time, thanks for reading…}

Have you ever had a long cold or sinus infection, and it made everything tasteless? Isn’t it frustrating? Especially if you feel decent otherwise, but you bite into what should be a delicious cookie or burrito or sandwich, and you can feel texture but the whole thing’s just plain tasteless.

It’s disappointing. You want to enjoy it, but you can’t because your senses hindered. Your taste, your ability to fully enjoy that certain flavor, has been deadened.

Once I finally stopped “researching” and just agreed that God probably knew best, once I set my mind and heart to do this fast for 40 days, exactly as prescribed, come what may, then I began involuntarily going through a process. I didn’t like it.

It began with three simple things. I had sensed God leading me to obey Him in 3 simple areas for the 3 weeks leading up to the fast. I had already sliced bananas and stocked the pantry, now it was time to prepare my heart. The three things were:

1. Stay home.
2. Don’t shop.
3. Get up early to pray.

This simply meant that whenever possible, I was to stay at home, and begin simplifying my schedule to carve out more time to seek Him. This meant I didn’t need to research things or shop for kids’ summer clothes or keep my eye out for deals. This meant unsubscribing from all “deal” emails. This meant getting up early to pray, to begin preparing my heart for this time.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but these things began to create a sharp separation from the world. I remember so clearly, just a week before the fast, I had really wanted to go into town to take advantage of a coupon that was about to expire. I wasn’t buying anything for myself, but there was something attractive about going and “getting something” nonetheless. It’s hard to explain, but maybe you get it, that subtle thrill of acquiring something new, when it feels like so much is being stripped away.

It was the worst day. I’ll spare you the details, but it was as if God made every attempt to buy or “enjoy the world” that day completely futile. Everything went wrong. Even Starbucks was a flop! Nothing was satisfying or enjoyable about my trip into town, and I came home frustrated and exhausted. I sat down with my journal and cried out to God and so clearly I heard:

“I’m making the world tasteless to you.”

*sigh*

That was exactly it. I kept trying to taste the world, and it was so frustrating because it wasn’t satisfying. But like we sometimes do with food, I just kept trying to taste it again and again that day, hoping somewhere I’d find a bite that tasted sweet.

Nope. It was all bland. All disappointing.

Tasteless.

As the week went on, the process continued. It was uncanny, how time after time after time, God would make the world tasteless. I even noticed that if ate a heavy meal, or something that was a “treat” I’d immediately get a stomachache.

It was as if He was preparing my body and my spirit to be weaned off the world. 

I knew deep down, this was good, but it felt like death. I cried a lot and felt really sad, like I was grieving the loss of a loved one, but that loved one was me. It was self that I loved so much, and self had to die. I kept feeling Him saying,

“I want you to completely relinquish your claim on your life.”

I really don’t mean to sound dramatic. I know we’re just talking about a simple fast. But what was happening inside was so deep, so profound, it was disturbing and jarring. And so good. The fast hadn’t even begun yet and already He was cutting the strings that tied me so tightly to this world, to myself.

He wanted all of me.

{For now, thanks for reading.}