I can feel it...
I've felt it all day.
The sense of failure about to happen,
facing past failures in the mirror, every time I look at myself.
It stings, that feeling of being out of control, lacking discipline to finish a daunting task.
Fearless, not me... I wish, for once, my heart and my stomach were on the same page, yet it never happens. I find myself in the midst of this again. God calling me to focus on the forgotten fruit of self-discipline, lining everything up, sending sign after sign that this is what I am supposed to do but I stare back at his command like a child asked to wash the dishes.
I DON'T THINK I CAN DO THIS ALONE!
Scratch that! I know I can't do this alone.
My heart still pounding about today's feat, no caffeine, I nearly died I'm sure of it. I craved Sonic every 15 minutes, I craved coffee, I craved, and craved, and craved.
My mind was about to explode, I had to flee.
Pack up the dogs.
Get in the car.
Unload the dogs.
A four mile hike will do the trick... or not.
One mile in and I feel like the world is collapsing. I might die up here and no one will know. I planned my death a thousand ways, faint and hit that rock, faint and fall off this cliff, slip and slide to my death. I knew it was over, I knew I could not handle this... Two miles in, what on earth was I thinking?
I'm two miles in that means I have to walk two miles back. I can't do this. I need a soda! I need coke. I need caffeine!
A lady asks me how far it is to the exit, I fight the urge to yell, but I stammer an exasperated..."Two, two miles."
She nods and goes on her way but I want to scream, wait! Carry me... but I sit instead.
The dog licks my leg, licking caffeine I'm sure. I bet it tastes great, this sweat, probably a pure soda fountain.
I stand and somehow manage another step, another step, my phone sends encouraging words
"3 miles 57 minutes, 28 seconds...."
Yes, that's proof I was dying.
I manage 4 miles and nearly fall into the water fountain craving water... craving life.
We reach the truck, I climb in... the cool air chilling the sweat on my forehead and I breathe.
The day is almost over and I've been caffeine free. Tomorrow I will start this fast, I can do it.
But the fear swarms me and my heart pounds again.
Doubt flooding every inch of me,
I've done this before it lasts about 24 hours and then I cave.
Then he gently reminds me, I was lead here and he will not give me a task that I cannot complete without him. This is huge for me and I know that self-control is something that the holy spirit has been pushing to the foremost areas of my thoughts these past few months but I never knew how to tackle it...
and. here. it. is. staring. me. in. the. face.
I've never done a fast before, I know it's supposed to be done in secret but I feel compelled to write about my journey. To write about the struggles, but mostly to write about my heart as it draws near to God.
I'm afraid I will fail. Fail miserably.
But I know that he has prepared me for this, he has given me tools which I will talk about among other struggles.
So tomorrow begins a 21 day journey. A journey of a deprived heart seeking God. Yet, as I sit here in my bed, I find that as the minutes tick into tomorrow and replaying the days struggles in my head (in preparation for the fast mind you!) I do not lust for a coke, though hours earlier I would have never thought I'd see this side of the light.
So here a journey begins... a journey to find a victorious heart.