The apostle Peter is one of my favorite people in the Bible. He reminds me of me. Following Jesus is not always easy for…
The Lenten season has started. Lent is six weeks (excluding Sundays) dedicated to prayer, fasting, and reflection to prepare for the grand celebration of…
I am horrible at waiting. I don’t always hate waiting itself, but I have expectations. When something is not done in the timeframe I…
We need your Breath of Life, your Spirit-Wind that slowly fills our lungs with quiet life,
that slows our breathing away from
billowing into our cells
the warm, still calmness of being.
Mary Fletcher was the first woman John Wesley permitted to preach in the 1770s. Her journals, diaries, and letters embody the largest collection of Methodist papers in existence with the sole exception of John Wesley’s papers. There are times I’ve wondered if a Lenten fast is nullified by Easter feasting. But in reading Mary Fletcher’s journals, noting the ebb and flow with which she made entries, I understood her seasons of profuse writing were not negated by the seasons of terseness.
Lent brings with it a unique dynamic that emphasizes both the individual and the communal nature of our life together.
Lent is a season of clarity. We already sit among the ashes. We already sit in cities made in our own image.
We fast to clear away the noise and the pain and the hurt. We fast to tune our hearts to his grace. We fast, even in the midst of our pain and brokenness, not to be torn down.
No, we fast to be built up. To be reminded of what matters and where life is found. We fast so that our ears can properly hear that voice of God, calling out to us.
In seasons when my faith has faltered, I can invariably point to a fumbled prayer life. Prayer empowers and gives vision; the lack of it weakens trust and causes me to wander.
How does fasting bring about wholeness?