Holes
We’ve given up chocolate. Or coffee. Or Facebook. We’re doing without meat. Or complaining. Or Sugar. And in this giving up, there are empty places left behind. The instinct of our flesh will be to fill those holes with something it wants. Something it convinces us we need. If we gave up chocolate, we’ll increase our sugar or find comfort in something else sweet. If we gave up Facebook, it’s likely we’ll spend more time on Pinterest. If we gave up coffee, we’ll probably find another drink that satisfies the thirst of our flesh. If we gave up meat, there’s a chance we’ll fill our bellies with starch. This won’t happen intentionally. It’s a natural response when our Lenten focus is on what we’re giving up, rather than what or who we’re hoping to embrace.
Fasting is always about feasting on Jesus. The denying the flesh part, the giving up part is never the purpose. It’s merely the way to hearing, listening and doing.
I urge us to experience the emptiness this giving up brings. Whatever you gave up you gave up for a reason. Maybe you turn to it for comfort. Or it’s what you do when you’re idle. Maybe it’s something you simply enjoy, so its absence will bring discomfort or awareness. No matter your reason, giving up anything leaves a hole. A place to be filled. Covered. Poured into. And it’s in these empty places where discovery is possible. The learning of who we are and what our God is capable of.
Jesus, we ask that you fill our holes. The ones left behind in giving up. The ones carved out by pain. The ones we’ve dug with a tool of bitterness. The ones others have burrowed into us. The ones we’ve stuffed with food. The ones we’ve disguised with superficial beauty. The ones we hope will go away if we work hard enough at our job.
Lord, teach us how to invite you into these empty places so you can fill them.
With truth, the kind that teaches us.
With love, the kind that drives out fear so we can trust.
With hope, the kind that gives assurance of what’s to come.
With grace, the kind that makes us feel worthy.
With conviction, the kind that leaves us unable to stay the same.
With vision, the kind that propels us toward new habits and ways of living.
With calling, the kind that motivates us to say yes to the things you’ve already called your people to.
People of God, we have a responsibility to live different than the rest of the world. To be holy – set apart – for the purposes of God. This must be reflected in how we treat our bodies. In how we spend our time. In who we choose to love. In what we impart to others. Let your giving up move you closer to this purpose.
If you’re giving up Facebook, then press into the people around you. Spend time with them. If you gave up chocolate, discover God given pleasures you might be missing. If you gave up coffee, seek God in what it means to depend on him. To consume him first thing in the morning. To turn to him when you’re tired. If you gave up meat, learn how to devour God’s word rather than feast on flesh.
May the holes in our life teach us. May they keep us on our knees. Searching. Depending. Open to the only One who truly makes us whole.
Hospitality challenge during Lent: Whether or not you are fasting during Lent, choose one person you know who is fasting and join them in their empty place. Pray for them. And be available for God to use you to fill the hole left behind in their giving up. Fasting is richer when experienced within a community.
