Die Flesh Die!

I started a three day fast on Tuesday, not really a hard thing, considering it only involves the abstention of food after 3pm and  until 7am, and the fasting from television and computer distractions during that time as well.  But my flesh certainly rebelled, and rebelled hard against it.  By 6:30pm on the drive to church, I found myself irritable, by the trip home I was not just irritable but edgy, short in my responses to my wife and trying to come to grips with how to pray. 

Later that evening, Jennifer was cooking a meal for her employer (which she had to take to work with her the next day) and the air was filled the smell of italian food.  Now my stomach was in overdrive, having skipped dinner for "more time with God" I found myself complaining and unhappy.  So, I went to bed without telling anyone.  Jennifer came to bed an hour later and I was still grumpy.  When she asked if I wanted to pray, I mumbled out a "you pray, I'll agree with you."  (translation:  I don't want to!)  My flesh was not going to give in without a major fight.  The reason we had decided to do this three day fast was so that we could pray for our church and for decisions related to vision for the church as well as our own personal direction. 

Finally, after an hour of sleeplessness, grumbling to God and trying to "give it to Him" I rolled over and apologized to Jennifer.  Then we prayed.  It wasn't earth-shattering prayer, but it was a victory. My prayer now is "Die Flesh, Die!"  I don't like it when my flesh runs my life!