Why I should quit before I get any further behind...

If you haven't been here a while, here's a summary of what has been going on in my crazy life: at the insistence of the Holy Spirit, I am doing Jen Hatmaker's 7: an experimental mutiny against excess study.  Today began the week calling for some sort of food-related fast.

Any normal person doing 7 would have looked at the list of suggestions this morning for the "food fast" this week and changed her mind.  One of the choices listed was skipping a trip to the grocery store and using what you have in your kitchen to feed your family all week.  That would probably have been much  more applicable to me.  Especially as I added up all of the food items in my pantry, refrigerator, and freezer, and came to over 279!  (I say "over" because I forgot to count the chips, bread, and cereal.)  I am pretty sure that is ridiculous.  I, however, had already prayed over my list of items I was choosing to eat and decided they were appropriate if a little too lenient to be considered a true fast, so I decided to stick to my guns.  Ugh.

The morning started early - I rolled over around 4 I think, and dozed until 6:30.  I read my Bible and did a portion of today's study.  Then before I even got out of my jammies I messed up on the fast thing: I started to get my coffee ready, but remembered at the past second not to pour.  When I fixed oatmeal for all of us, out of habit I put in the butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, and craisins in my oatmeal along with everyone else's.  Oops.  I ate it anyway.

It is freezing out.  Literally.  Snowing.  See.

our back porch

Of course in central Alabama, when it snows things complete shut down.  Apparently I do too, as all morning long my brain has been pounding "need coffee. need coffee. need coffee."  The funny thing about this is that I drink one small cup a day.  I love coffee and could drink four cups, but limit myself to one.  Why is this so difficult then???

After dropping Addison off at school and Audrey in the nursery, I worked out for like a second.  Afterwards I ran into several friends from Sunday school dropping their kiddos off.  They're all doing a Bible study that I decided not to do because of this 7 fiasco.  As I got in the car I thought, "should I quit 7 and start the other?"  Here's the thing: I've been praying fervently for opportunities to get to know women around me better.  I have said a hundred times that the thing I miss most about Pensacola is the deep friendships there.  I have friends here, don't get me wrong.  Wonderful, sweet friends.  But what I have been praying for is the "oh you're sick?  Here let me bring you some soup..."  The "I forgot to thaw out chicken for dinner and now I'm too lazy.  Want to meet us for Mexican instead?"  The "Myhusbandandorkidsaredrivingmenutsbutyouknowmewellenoughtolovemeanyways" kind of friends.  So I drove away stumped.  Wouldn't that opportunity have been it? What I have been praying for?  Why, then, all the push from the Holy Spirit to do 7?  I came home a little bummed out.  (And un-caffeinated!)  I realize part of the point of a fast is for prayer, so I start seriously praying.  Not because I'm burdened or sad or lost or angry.  I just want there to be a point  to all this!  I heard Jen say on the video that accompanies our study yesterday that sometimes our attachment to what we feel entitled to (i.e. "I want my food how I want it and I want it now) is a mask for our need for approval, love, validation.  That's it.

That's it for me.  Don't I already have all that I need?  Haven't there been enough folks pouring into my life?  Isn't it time for me to do that for someone else?

Or better yet, haven't I already been validated?  Loved?  Is it not enough that Jesus died on the cross for me?  What more validation, what better friend do I need?   

Part of this study is becoming more aware of the poorest of the poor around the world.  The trafficked, the enslaved, the abused, the hungry and starving.  I am thrilled and anxious about this part of it.  That leads to my prayer for myself during this "experiment":

Lord, may you break this spirit of entitlement in me, and in its place may there be less of me and more of Your Kingdom.  Give me a right perspective, and wisdom, discernment, and mercy.  Help me care about the neediest, and learn how you want me to act.