As Christian disciplines go, I am better at some than others. There is one, however, with which I am an abysmal failure. I don’t fast well.

I can deny myself things.
I can deny myself foods and drinks and favorites.

I just can’t not eat.

I need something. My blood sugar gets low, I get headaches, I get irritable, and I don’t play we’ll with others.

I am trying.

I fed my kids yogurt moments ago and my stomach growled angrily, ravenously; my brain beginning to cloud over; my willpower shrinking and I think about stealing the yogurt from my own kids.

Yogurt. Not steak. Not a hot dog. Mmmmm…hot dog…
Yogurt. Vanilla. And it isn’t even noon.

This is my lunch. I’m on my second cup. This and chicken broth. For desert, I’ll have Jello.

Like any fast, there is a purpose that is supposed to be my strength. That this time tomorrow, I’ll be done. And hopefully the tests will come back as clear as my bowels are supposed to be.

But fasting is never really about the results. It is the struggle, the life experience that causes us to open our brains to personal reflection and discernment.

I hope to learn about myself and about my relationship with GOD today in a way I can’t on any other day. In this unique experience.

Because today is today and tomorrow is tomorrow: it comes with a different experience and focus and expectation.

Today, I learn. And drink a lot of coffee.