In the Old Testament, individuals and communities often participated in fasts in times of deep sorrow or repentance of sin, in times of mourning, and in times of deep spiritual need.
I can safely say that I am in the latter stage.
Last night I had a bit of a breakdown that is unlike anything I have ever experienced. Matt had taken the kids to go see his sister and make final preparations for the cruise we are going to be embarking upon at the end of this month (praise God!) and I decided to use my alone time wisely and exercise.
I had a difficult time getting going, but once I found a good walk video that was based in Manhattan, New York, it was easy to get into a good groove. I was fine until the walk finished and I decided to do some ab work. That’s when I got really upset. Why? Because I have been exercising, drowning myself in water, which I absolutely detest, and that belly fat will not budge. I got extremely frustrated.
It’s not just my weight that is bothering me. There is a stew of failures that has been marinating in my mind. I know this is a tactic of Satan but it’s a good one. I am despondent over my undiagnosed condition, which has made it difficult for me to work; I am disappointed that I thought I had secured an online job and through no fault of my own, that didn’t work out, and I had plans for the money I would have received; I am hurt because my mom ended up suffering as the cosigner for my student loans once I defaulted; I am upset because I am a financial burden/charity case for everyone close to me; it bothers me that I didn’t have my own money to use toward my husband’s birthday party; I am tired of being tired and having to push myself to even get out of bed in the morning; I am sick of looking in the mirror everyday and being disappointed at the image looking back at me; I’m having difficulty finding joy and pleasure in a lot of things that I normally would. I will admit that on several occasions I have wondered if my family would be better off without me.
I took an online depression screening test and it said I was severely depressed and should seek medical help.
I won’t be taking it lightly. Remember the post I did about how God can cure depression, directly and indirectly (such as through the help of medical professionals)? I have already scheduled an appointment with my doctor. But I am also consulting my main spiritual physician, my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. As a matter of fact, that is who I queried before anyone else. The Holy Spirit is impressing upon me to fast after I speak with my doctor. In my humble opinion, Jesus has identified that not only am I under attack, but the attack is getting to me. In steps the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, guiding me toward not ignoring my symptoms, and fighting being ashamed for not being able to just snap out it and go get some help.
I know the devil is out to steal, kill and destroy. He is out to steal my joy, kill my spirit and destroy my hopes, dreams and goals and my confidence in the Father. I know how to combat that. But I’m human, and all of these things piling up on me is difficult. Christians should be confident that Jesus is the source of their joy and all things good and know that if their being able to bask in that joy is interrupted, they should get help. And in the midst of ALL struggles, we have to remember that our help comes from God, and seek Him out. Problems are not the time to turn from God; they are instead times when we should seek Him even more fervently. And that is what I intend to do.