In the Secret Place

Look at me. Look closely. Do I look a little gaunt? Can you guess why? Perhaps if I acted a bit faint you might ask me if I am all right and I can respond, “I’m fine—I’m just fasting for Jesus.”

How pitiful could I be? But about the time I won the battle with my flesh and learned that fasting would neither cause me to pass out from hunger nor die of malnutrition, a new skirmish broke out. Actually, it was outright warfare—with pride. Everything in me wanted to give a testimony about what fasting had done for my spiritual life. Fortunately, I was given no opportunity.

Jesus implies that I am supposed to fast in secret. Secret? Absolutely. Put on my makeup and brush my hair. Stop looking pitiful and famished, because if I am not willing to fast with stealth, I miss the whole point. The discipline is meant to be covert, private, between God and me.

But how do I balance this secrecy with the desire to encourage others in the long-neglected discipline of fasting? Should I assume God will lead them also? The conclusion: If God wants me to talk about fasting, He will make that perfectly clear (as in the assignment to write these devotions). Otherwise, keep the mouth shut.

Jesus knows my heart, everything I think, even my very motives. Thankfully, He understands my desire for accomplishment and my tendency to brag about it. But I must fight that tendency. I must not fast in order to impress others with my religiousness. No rebuffing lunch invitations with, “I can’t because I am fasting.” A simple, “Thanks, but not today,” will suffice.

There is no such thing as biblical fasting done proudly. Pride negates the very purpose of fasting in the first place. The focus moves from God to self. Fight the urge. Fast in secret.

Father, fasting is a personal part of my relationship with You. Help me keep our secret unless You direct me otherwise. Amen.