A College Seeress' Diary

Fleshy Wrestling

Dear Jesus,

Day One

I woke up from a dream that's hard to describe. It was like I was floating through a hazy forest and battling with some dark, eerie personalities.
I don't even remember how it ended.

The good news was, I wasn't scared when I woke up, so I knew it wasn't anything to worry about. I made sure to mention it in prayers though, not taking any crass chances, soaking my dream world in your powerful blood.

After an amazing time of fellowship with you as usual, I made a list of my to-do activities for this three-day retreat I was embarking on. More like dos and don'ts. A spur of the moment thing. I had been too occupied yesterday to do it.

It was majorly comprised of these:

✓No food.

✓Water only at 6 pm each day.

✓No internet.

✓No TV.

✓Spiritual books, songs and messages.

✓You and my Bible.

✓Unceasing prayer.

Typically unexciting prospects for good old Mr Flesh, yes I know.

Since I knew today would be my biggest chance at strength and mobility, I decided to harness that to the fullest.
I ventured out of my safe haven after having my bath around 9 am.

Mr Flesh was promptly assaulted with the first temptation. Perfect timing. Perfect frustration. Urgh!

I had laboriously eased myself downstairs, no particular mission in mind.

I was just about to greet my parents who were softly discussing at the dinning.
However, when they turned towards my direction, having heard my shuffling, my eyes got stuck on what was displayed on the table.

Lord, I never knew that something as simple as rice, garnished with beans and chicken stew could look so appealing. And the aroma. Oh, elders of Heaven!
It was as if the dang food was calling, no singing a haunting, seductive harmony, to me.

And it says in the Bible that the devil gave you the food test after forty days in the wilderness. I don't know how you survived, but now I'm sure it must have taken a deep reserve of supernatural strength for you to resist that.

I gulped. My stomach actually rumbled as if on cue.
Be still, my poor stomach worms.

I averted my eyes, consoling myself with that scripture about you having been touched with the feelings of my infirmities.

Strength, Lord, I pleaded in my spirit.

I managed to proceed with my greeting and mumbled something about wanting to take a quick walk outside in the garden. It was actually my only feasible escape mechanism at that time.

Mom started to protest that my leg wasn't strong enough, but somehow, with Dad's support, I had my way.

I went to the garden and spent the entire morning there, meditating on your word.
The scents of different flora-roses, lavenders, hibiscuses, lilies, et cetera-clashed, each one trying to gain dominance. It was refreshing. The rains would come soon and they'd bloom more gloriously. The signs were already showing.

The passage of time was excruciatingly slow, but I survived. Plus, your Word is far more delicious than any physical food.

I went back in when the sun was getting high and napped. When I woke up, I read my Bible, meditated deeply for hours, unravelling sweet mysteries of who you are, thank to the Holy Spirit's patient tutorship, and slept right back.
Not a very momentous 24 hours, but it was good.