Threre was a day last week when I fasted from words. I did not speak for 24 hours. Well to be honest I did mess up a of couple times. Like when I was asked if I wanted to ride a piki piki (motorcycle) back home instead of riding in a car. A big “YES” may have slipped through my lips.
It was the first time I had ever fasted from words. It wasn’t so hard the first couple of hours. It was actually quite nice to be able to just sit and observe during our daily morning family conversation over breakfast. (I thoroughly enjoyed not being able to join in a discussion before I was truly awake!)
After a 15 minute car ride, 3 long matatu rides (public transportation, aka a really loud crowed van) and a brisk walk, we arrived at the Giraffe Centre in Karen (a city near Nairobi). As the day went on it got harder and harder not to speak; everyone around me seemed to be singing and sharing stories, and all I could do was listen. During our hour and a half journey to our destination, I had to purse my lips together to not say what I wanted to say. I had the urge many times to open my mouth and give advice about how I thought we should get there, and how much was a fair price for transportation, and how long we would stay, etc.
I could feel myself starting to get frustrated. And, because I couldn’t communicate much to my team (besides answering yes and no questions and miming to the best of my ability- which for the record isn’t that great), I had the prime opportunity to evaluate my thoughts and reactions to people and situations.
My heart was deeply pierced that day by an expected conviction.
There were so many things that I would have otherwise verbalized that day that would not have brought any good to anyone. I realized that many times when I wanted to speak, it was only because I wanted my voice to be heard, or I wanted to prove myself right during a topic of debate, or declare my thoughts as far as making decisions, in order to have some control in our team excursion.
I was also humbled by facing my judgmental thoughts I had towards other people. I came face-to-face that day with the ugly perspectives I had about how I wanted others to view me and by how I viewed others.
I felt as if God spoke to me through my silence and said,
“Are you seeing with your eyes or mine?”
The answer was an obvious “No”, but it wasn’t easy to admit that truth.
As the day progressed I took my repulsive attitude and gave it to God. My mind became clear. Now that the death-bringing thoughts were gone, there was so much room for life to fill my head.
The beautiful characteristics that radiated off of the people around me and the goodness that encompassed me completely replaced all the judgments I had had only moments previous.
The next morning not only brought a new day, but also a new outlook on God’s creation.
My constant prayer is now,
“God, give me your eyes, give me your ears. I want to hear the way you do. I want to see the way you do. I want to respond and react the way you do. I want to love the way you do. I give you all my thoughts that are not of you. I don’t want to miss an opportunity to see your beauty and partake in your goodness.”
