My family didn’t fast on Sunday. Readers of this blog will know why I didn’t fast. My kids are too young, but my husband didn’t fast either. I’m not entirely sure why he didn’t. I know he received the same emails I did, both from church headquarters and from the wardd. However, he’s not much of a social media person, so maybe he hadn’t seen all the reminders. I never mentioned it to him because one of the many things I shedded when leaving the church was being responsible for his spirituality and church involvement.

Still, my thoughts keep turning back to that particular call to fast and pray. I have some things to say.

On the one hand, I see how it gives members a concrete action to take (beyond social distancing and washing hands). It’s a way to give hope and comfort for a subset of people during a troubling time. I can’t fault them for that. For myself, I’ve upped my meditation and podcast listening as a way to keep calm during this turbulent time. I’m sure fasting and prayer gave many people a sense of comfort and peace. It gives them a sense of control in a world that feels out of control.

But something is bothering me. Something isn’t setting right as I think about this fast. I don’t like what fasting and praying imply about the nature of God.

That fast, in particular, was for the physical and spiritual wellbeing of people during this time. That sounds nice, but it makes me wonder: is God sitting around, watching the global panic and uncertainty, and waiting to act only when enough prayers and fast are said and done? Is he just waiting to give comfort and relief only when it is asked of him?

I hope not because if that is true, then He’s a crappy father.

To bring this down on a more personal level, I think about how my family has been faring during this time. We’re doing okay. It’s been tough, but we’re managing. We check in with each other and taking each day as they come. We remind each other to take breaks and time for ourselves and we do regular check ins with our kids.

The kids are doing as well as expected. From their perspective, the world turned upside down in a matter of hours. One morning they were going to school and excitedly talking about an upcoming field trip, and then in the middle of the school day their principal came into their class to tell them school would be out for whole month (and more at this point). They went from having regular play dates, homework, and after school activities to suddenly seeing their teacher in Zoom meetings, limited out of the house time, and a mother playing the role of teacher. It’s a lot to take in.

This week one of my children started crying quietly to herself. I only noticed because I heard her big, snot-filled sniff from the other side of the room. I didn’t wait for her to call out my name or for her to walk over to me. I didn’t standby, ignoring her until she said some magic words or performed a special ritual. Instead, I went to her, knowing her and our situation well enough to know she needed a hug and validation. She needed someone to acknowledge her pain, fear, and loneliness and then feed her some comforting words. She didn’t need anything other than a sigh for me to go to her.

When I think that God is supposed to be a loving father figure who knows our hearts, fears, and desires, and is just sitting around, waiting for us to ask him for help, I can’t help but becoming upset. Why would he withhold blessing from us until we ask? Why would he hold back comfort and life-saving assurances until we deny ourselves food? Why is he waiting for a church that totals less than 1% of the world population to cry out for help in order to use Divine intervention?

After all, if the love I have for my own children is a small reflection of His love, then should I feed my children only when they cry out in starvation? Should I withhold medicine until it’s time to go to a hospital? Should I ignore their cries at night because they didn’t come and get me from my bed?

Of course not. I don’t wait for them because, as the parent, I know I’m responsible for their needs. I can’t imagine withholding love, help, and assurances until the very last minute.

I’m not flippantly asking why doesn’t God just solve all these problems for us with a flick of His wrist? I’m asking why is there this prevailing thought that God won’t act until we ask? I must we beg God for deliverance?

If isn’t true and God already has started taking care of us, then wouldn’t it be in the way of scientists and experts? Shouldn’t we more seriously take the recommendations to social distance and hand washing? Shouldn’t we also demand greater actions from our leaders, both elected and spiritual? Shouldn’t we invest more time and resources into this problem? If science is the way God is providing for us, why is there so much shrugging and distrust of scientist and experts?

And if God really is waiting for a certain number of prayers in order to take action, is this the type of God we want to worship? How can we say He’s a loving, compassionate being if He is unwilling to lift a finger unless we cry out in anguish?

God helps those who help themselves, they say. Maybe that’s a more subtle way of saying God isn’t really helping at all.

So I guess that’s what really bothering me. It’s this conflicting idea that God is a loving, all knowing Being who continually helps His children, but only when enough people respectfully ask. What sort of God is that? And is that a God I want to follow? I think not.

As always, stay safe and please wash your hands.