God, send us the lost.

John Church, our Groups Coach here at Prairie Lakes, has challenged all of us on staff to do some sort of fast for the 3 weeks prior to Easter.  We're fasting for 2 reasons: first, so that we can be closer to God as we're more in tune with our desires for him than any other desire; and second, so that we can more powerfully pray for our Easter services.  We're about 5 days into it.  I wanted to share a story with you that's come out of it.

Yesterday, my brother and I went up to Milwaukee to watch a couple of the NCAA basketball tournament games.  I had never been to one of those tournament games, so I was looking forward to it.  We both really enjoyed playing basketball in high school, so it was something that we had in common.  My brother Josh even coached a little bit during his college days.

But as much as I was looking forward to it, I was also dreading it a little bit.  I didn't know how I was going to be able to maintain my fast while I was up there.  (Read: I didn't know if I was going to be able to maintain my fast while I was up there.)  The fast that I'm doing requires me to eat only vegetables, fruits, and whole grains.  No sugars.  No meat.  No caffeine.  No alcohol.  No breads other than whole grains.

Which of course means nothing from the concession stands, nothing from the drive-thru, nothing from the tap... nothing from the things that are normally a part of a 3 hour car ride both ways and nothing sold at a national sports venue.

I didn't know if I was going to be able to do it.  I didn't know how I was going to do it.  I went back and forth, back and forth in my mind, trying to discover a way for my fast to accommodate my circumstance.

Eventually, though, I decided to force my circumstance to accommodate my fast.  I brought my "approved" snack foods from work in a bag, and made myself some peanut butter sandwiches and stuffed them in a Zip-loc bag into my coat pocket.  We stopped at a Kwik-Trip and loaded up on some bananas, nuts, and a veggie tray for the car ride up and back.  I got past security without them searching my coat.

But that's not the best part.  In fact, that part of the story doesn't even matter.  Who really cares if I kept my fast or not?  That's not the point. 

The point of the fast isn't the fast itself.  The point of the fast is the purpose of the fast: to be closer to God, and to pray according to his desires and will for the Easter services.

And so I'm sitting there in my seat, waiting for the first game to start.  I'm hungry.  I want a pop and a hot-dog like my brother has, or some nachos like the guy next to me has.

But even more than that, I wanted God to send us the lost on Easter.  Honestly.  I started to pray, right then and there, for God to send us the lost on Easter.  Earnestly.  Genuinely.  I wanted the lost.  I wanted them to come.  I wanted them to encounter God.  Right there in Milwaukee, at an NCAA basketball tournament game, where normally I would be sipping a pop, chomping on a hot-dog, reminiscing about the glory days of high school basketball with my brother.

That's not in me... at least, that's not normally in me.  I don't normally do that type of thing in those types of situations.  That's God, honoring my obedience by shaping my desires to be more like his own.

God's heart burns for the lost, all the time.  Even when I'm busy stuffing my face and trying to get away from it all.  And I was grateful to get a picture of that.

God, send us the lost.  Send us all of them... or as many as can possibly fit on our two campuses.  Make our non-inviting members sick that day so that there'll be more seats for those who need to know you, or those who have yet to know you who have come on the arm of one of their friends.

Amen.