Yesterday as I was driving home with Brenton, Taylor and Ethan from a three-hour prayer session at church, I began fantasizing about a ham sandwich. Mayo and mustard on two slices of wheat bread, half a pig's worth of ham piled beneath lettuce, pickles and onion...oh baby. Our church began a week of fasting and praying on Sunday (Yes, Super Bowl Sunday. Interesting timing on that. That's all I'm saying.) and let's just say I'm struggling. I confess I've downed several dried apricots, a couple of crackers and a few niblets of cheese in the last four days ... oh, and a half-dozen grapes. There's no condemnation, of course, but I'm just trying to keep it real here. I had no clue going without food would be so brutally tough. Another confession: I'm a weenie. Julie keeps telling me I'll make it to Saturday evening when we break the fast (God bless the woman for her encouragment and faith), but I'm just feeling weak.
Scripture cites frequent fastings (with Jesus pulling a real humdinger of a one at 40 days and nights, as recounted in Matthew 4) and Jesus said in his Sermon on the Mount, "Moreover, when you fast..." There's something to this fasting thing, I have to say. The prayer meetings at church this week have been spectacularly powerful. And I'm weak, but the Lord is strong. Your prayers, however, are appreciated as we take this week to seek the Lord's will in our lives. And maybe even throw up a prayer that I'll be relieved of these fantasies about ham sandwiches and bacon cheeseburgers. Shoot, at this point brussel sprouts almost sound good. I said almost.