Throughout the winter, I (Matthew) watched as Amy diligently fasted and prayed with God. She would close our bedroom door in the evenings and spend hours worshiping, waiting, and listening to Him. When she finally exited our room, her face would radiate with joy as she shared the words God had spoken to her in the quiet place. I longed to join her, but it was such a struggle for me both physically and mentally. I couldn’t fast like Amy. I would starve all morning and then break my fast by noon. Even when I tried to pray I couldn’t seem to concentrate. My mind was restless and void.
“Amy, I don’t know how you’ve managed to fast this long,” I say enviously.
“I think it’s because God has invited me to fast and pray,” Amy answers. “Therefore I have the grace to accomplish His will. Trust me Matt, without God’s grace I don’t think I could’ve done this either.”
Back then, I didn’t understand what Amy was trying to say. That is, until I got a taste of this grace for myself.
When the summer of 2018 came along, Amy and I finally flew over the Atlantic Ocean and arrived in Ireland to continue our journey east around the world. We spent the next three weeks travelling with a missionary team to a small town called Ballina. It was a busy month as we received training from our leaders, served in the church, and engaged with the local community. Our minds were getting filled with new knowledge and our hands equipped with new skills. Our time in Ireland was short, so the schedule filled up quickly and our team agreed to participate in all the activities that presented themselves. Normally, a thirty minute quiet time with God would have suited me fine. However, among all these good deeds that we were doing I felt a mounting pressure in my heart. A great hunger and longing for God. I missed Him greatly, and I felt an increasing desire to spend time with Jesus. On Sunday, August 19th, I finally reached a breaking point. When I sat down for breakfast at the team’s meeting area I turned on my speaker to listen to some worship music. I’m not sure what came over me, but rather than eating breakfast I ended up lying on the floor and started crying and weeping for Jesus. I continued to turn up the music louder and louder until a hand gently touched my back. It was Amy. She sat quietly beside me and tried to comfort me as best she could. I think the whole experience was a little offensive to other people in the room. My music was blaring at the breakfast table after all. Even I could not fully understand my own actions. The desperate need for Jesus was so overwhelming! In this state I felt a word on my heart,
If you make time for me, I’ll show up.
I suddenly felt an invitation from God to draw near to Him. I felt a need to fast and pray. It was the beginning of my own fasting journey.
One thing have I asked of the Lord,
that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to inquire in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)
I wake up the following morning and I’m so excited to spend time with Jesus. My team leaders are understanding and they allow me to take the day off from the planned activities. Instead, I stay at the house and turn on the worship music. I feel like I’ve been given an opportunity to spend an entire day with my best friend. As the day progresses I notice something peculiar. I’m not hungry. Actually it’s quite the opposite; I feel completely full! Suddenly, I understand what Amy has been trying to explain to me. There’s a big difference between fasting and starving. Instead of restricting my eating habits in my own strength, God’s grace was sustaining me throughout the day. It was allowing me to draw near to Him like never before. This concept of grace was amazing; it felt like I was flying! At the end of what felt like a perfect day, I went to bed looking forward to breaking my fast with a homemade Irish scone.
The next morning however, something strange happens and it takes me by surprise. I’m still not hungry. On the contrary, I feel well rested, at peace, and my stomach feels full. Completely confused by this phenomena I can only conclude that God’s grace must still be on me.
Wanna spend another day with me? Jesus asks with a smile.
If I had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy.
Another day with you? Absolutely!
Then He adds, When you drink coffee my grace will leave you.
Wait, no food AND no coffee?! I argue. But, I love coffee! I need coffee. I can’t function without it.
God stays silent and leaves the decision up to me. I do love coffee, but God’s grace feels so good right now that I don’t want it to stop. So I decide to give up coffee. I can tell that God is happy with my choice. I go through the entire day with even more grace than I experienced yesterday. Not only does my stomach remain full, but I don’t have any caffeine withdrawal. No headaches, no fatigue, and no leg cramps! The day is absolutely amazing and Jesus feels so close to me right now.
For the third day in a row, I wake up and I’m completely satisfied. I also feel like a different person. Love, joy, and peace seem to flow from my heart and I feel so sensitive to God’s Spirit. God even starts to give me words to speak over others. I watch as His words encourage and heal broken hearts. There’s power behind my prayers and I watch as people are healed and set free from demonic oppression.
“How much longer are you going to do this for?” Amy asks me that evening.
“That’s the crazy part. I have no idea how long God’s grace is going to rest on me,” I answer honestly.
“Wow, that’s pretty amazing,” Amy says. At first her green eyes are filled with wonder, but then a new thought enters her mind. Her face suddenly shows concern.
“Matt, do you realise that you’re scheduled to climb Croagh Patrick tomorrow?” she asks.
I’m aware of this dilemma, but I have no idea what to do about it. Croagh Patrick is Ireland’s holy mountain and has an elevation of 2,500 ft. It’s said that in 441 A.D. Saint Patrick journeyed up this mountain to fast and pray for forty days. Since then the mountain has been famous for pilgrimage journeys. Last week I was invited by some young adults to climb this mountain with them. However, other locals had also warned me about the dangers of the mountain’s terrain, especially approaching the summit. High winds and loose rocks had claimed many victims in the past.
“Are you going to break your fast so that you can climb the mountain tomorrow?” Amy asks me. It sounds like wisdom, but the grace on my body is so surreal right now that I can’t help but wonder if God has a different plan.
“I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” I respond with a shrug.
The following morning I wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside my bedroom window. For the fourth time this week, God’s grace is covering me. I hear His voice say,
I’m waiting for you at the top.
I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth. (Psalm 121: 1-2)
Upon arriving at the base of Croagh Patrick my eyes are caught by the fantastic view. The mountain seems to stand alone with a majestic beauty. It hugs the coast of the Atlantic and looms over the surrounding valleys. It’s height reaches into the sky, while its summit is concealed by a thick grey cloud.
“Let’s get going you guys,” our leader instructs. “Grab your bags.”
I grab my favorite backpack with my water bottle and rain jacket concealed inside. The sun is bright, but the atmosphere is colder than I expected at the base of the mountain. I’m already regretting leaving my gloves behind. I zip up my grey FXR sweater until it covers my neck. My canadian buff wraps around my ears and forehead for added warmth. My other buddies, Tony and John, are sporting cotton sweaters and basketball shorts for the climb.
The Irish must be more weathered than us Canadians, I think to myself.
We find the trail and immediately the path turns into a steep grade. My heart picks up as my body adapts to the sudden incline. The path is rocky and well worn-in by the many hikers before us. As we follow the trail it leads us through green pastures and past grazing sheep. Small streams of water flow from the mountain top and down to the fields below. The path often leads us alongside these calm waters, but occasionally the streams would flow across our path. It requires some skilled footwork and balance to keep our shoes dry.
The steep grade of the mountain is persistent but my body finds a rhythm. With every step the valley becomes more distant as I keep focus on my pace. Suddenly, our leader speaks up.
“We gotta stop for a minute,” he calls out from behind. “My hip is acting up.”
I welcome the short break. However, after a few minutes of resting our leader concludes that his hip isn’t well enough to endure the rest of the climb.
“You guys will have to go on without me. I’ll meet you back at the car.”
With that instruction he gives me a beautiful gift, his hiking poles.
We continue the journey, but suddenly I’m finding the climb very tough. My body feels weak with exhaustion and my legs ache with every step.
Father I need your grace, I pray.
Suddenly, I can feel my legs get warm and a new wave of strength comes over me. I’m able to keep climbing.
“It gets easier just a little further up,” Tony encourages me from the front of the line. Tony’s right. After a few minutes the path suddenly levels off. The altitude is much higher now and there’s very little vegetation. The terrain is composed of large sand-coloured rocks. We chuckle with interest as we pass by the creative works of other hikers. Some people have stacked up loose rocks to form sculptures while others have used the white rocks to write their names on the ground. All too soon the path begins to climb again. It’s the last grade before the summit and the incline is even steeper than before. We start climbing together but my pace is much slower than my friends.
“Matt, we’re going to run to the top,” Tony calls from upfront. “We’ll see you up there!”
Are you kidding me?! These kids are making me feel old.
“Alright,” I manage to muster while trying to catch my breath. “See you at the top.”
Tony and John run ahead. I’m completely alone.
As I continue the ascent, there’s no clear path ahead of me. The terrain is simply a myriad of loose rocks. I dig my poles into the earth and carefully judge each step. The mountain can no longer shelter me from the wind. It howls in my ears and whips around me. My hands are freezing as the temperature continues to drop. Before long my entire body starts to feel weak again. My legs are shaking with exhaustion. There’s no way I’ll be able to make this climb.
God I need your help, I plead. You’re waiting for me at the top. Please give me the grace to meet you there.
Praise Me, He says.
I stop and turn on my worship music. Another wave of grace comes over me and I’m filled with new strength. I keep climbing. Some time later the world below me disappears. The beautiful view of Ireland and the Atlantic Ocean is suddenly gone from my sight. I’ve been engulfed by the grey cloud at the top of the mountain. The mist quickly fogs my glasses and I struggle to see the rocks in front of me. My ascent is slow going, but the worship music in my ears keeps up my endurance. At last the path levels off and I’m met with a welcoming sign, “Croagh Patrick: Ireland’s Holy Mountain”.
I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment and a rush of exhilaration. I’d made it to the top of the mountain! I stop and give a sigh of relief. Then I take in my surroundings. It’s far from what I had expected. In all honesty, the top of the mountain looks miserable. The thick grey cloud is blocking the sun and any chance of a scenic view. Plus, the wind and rain have picked up and I’m getting very cold and wet. There’s a small white church to my right and I quickly walk towards it. I’m not the only person on this mountain looking for shelter. There are at least twenty other hikers huddled together at the front of the church to avoid the wind. There among the group I see two familiar figures. One is wearing an orange toque and the other is pulling off a great afro. It’s Tony and John! Seeing their bare legs and wet clothes makes me feel frigid.
“Aren’t you guys cold?” I ask them.
“Not really,” Tony responds with an indifferent shrug. “This mist is crazy though. I can’t believe we’re in the middle of a cloud right now.”
I look around this barren mountain top and note the thick grey cloud above me. Where was God anyway? He was supposed to be up here.
Feeling more bold than usual, I walk away from the church and stand in the middle of the wind and rain. Then I point up at the sky and cry out,
“Rain stop and clouds part, in Jesus’ name!”
I turn and run back to the church to find cover again. I can feel people’s eyes on me, but I ignore their stares. I start putting on my blue Northface jacket but before I can zip it up, the weather suddenly changes. I turn around to look at the sky again. In the exact place where I had pointed my finger, the clouds have suddenly parted to make a small hole. The rain has momentarily stopped and a beam of sunlight is now streaming through the small opening in the clouds. It’s a beautiful sight and I can’t help but smile. Jesus was here. He was on the top of the mountain with me. The sign lasts for only a moment before the clouds close again, but I’m satisfied. Tony, John and I take a few pictures to capture the moment before we start making our descent. I love climbing down, it’s so fast and easy. The hiking poles also make the steep downhill much easier to handle. I’m definitely adding these to my wish list. We leave the thick cloud and we’re greeted by the warmth of the sun. We turn another corner and suddenly the wind is blocked by the mountain. In no time at all the green pastures have returned and the world is filled with life once again. There are streams of water and sheep grazing in the fields. My own soul seems to quiet itself and I find peace among these surroundings. I can’t help but feel an incredible sense of God’s love.
…
Wait, that was God just now!
I slow my pace and come to a complete stop. God had just spoken to me. It was the most beautiful and profound words that I’d ever heard in my life.
Let’s keep this a secret between you and Me.
A secret? I say. You mean I can’t even tell Amy?
He doesn’t respond to my question, but I feel this amazing sense of excitement and honor. Not only did God want to share this secret with me, but He actually trusted me to keep a secret. God was treating me like… a friend.
Tony and John are now out of my sight and I quickly pick up my pace to catch up. I don’t even take in my surroundings anymore. My mind is preoccupied with the encounter I’d just had with God. I meet up with everyone back at the vehicle where our leader has been patiently waiting for us. When we get back on the road, I open my backpack to change into my spare t-shirt. As a guy, I don’t usually care about the style of my shirts, however I’m suddenly drawn to its color and design. The shirt is a dark green and the color reminds me of Ireland. On the front of the shirt there’s a simple design of a rugged mountain. Strangely enough, this mountain looks very similar to the one I just climbed. Suddenly, I realize that this is my Croagh Patrick shirt. Whenever I wear it I’ll be reminded of the secret, and this amazing experience I’ve had with God. Even though it’s a shirt that I’ve previously owned, it suddenly feels brand new. It feels like I’m receiving a gift from Father.
“Thank you,” I whisper quietly.
My thoughts are interrupted by our leaders next words.
“What a day you’ve all had,” he declares. “You must all be starving!”
It’s a group vote and we drive to the McDonald’s in Castlebar to celebrate. I can tell that my fast has come to an end. I suddenly feel incredibly hungry. So hungry in fact that I decide to break my fast by ordering two mcdoubles, two junior chickens, and a large vanilla milkshake. It’s sooooo good! 🙂
The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave. (1 Kings 19:11-13)
