Isaiah 58

First of all, a funny note: My mom figured out I had a new blog and posted it on her Facebook page yesterday morning. Subsequently, yesterday resulted in more than half of the total pageviews since the creation of the blog. Thanks, Mom.

I mentioned last week in my first Lenten post that I would be devoting more time in the mornings to reading and prayer. I won't talk about this every day, but my intent is to update you periodically on what God is teaching me through that time.

Much of the reflection I've had so far has centered around compassion. I know that I used to be a more compassionate person. Honestly, I think it's easy to get cynical when you work in the church (maybe not for everyone, but I'm sure at least some pastors would agree with me). You know in Jeremiah where God is talking about the new covenant and says "I will give them a heart of flesh instead of a heart of stone"? Yeah, my heart had gotten a little rocky over the past year. But I didn't even realize it until now.

Through these morning readings and meditation times, I've felt one little piece of that callousness breaking off at a time. And I rejoice in that.

One of the readings last week was from Isaiah 58. If you haven't read this chapter, I'd encourage you to. It portrays God speaking to Israel about the kind of "fasting" they do--the kind that's just outward show to honor themselves and uphold ritual. Instead, he instructs them to pursue another type of fast, the kind "acceptable to the Lord." The whole chapter is great, but here are the verses that stuck out to me:

"If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday." (verses 9b-10)

I had been pretty consumed with my own problems as of late, but reading this brought me back to the fact that it's not all about me. There are so many things bigger than myself and my own quandaries. Real needs all over the world and in people around me that should break my heart every day.

Out of this, I felt led to add something else to Lent: Each week until Easter, I will participate in some sort of activity that provides for someone else, for "the needs of the afflicted." Most of them probably won't be too groundbreaking, but all will be meaningful. I'll be posting about these as they happen, so keep watching! :)