Super

Super
And for once I was SuperMom

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Take a Moment

"Should I do it?"  I ask my husband, my eyes following him around the dining room table as he collects a drink for one of our children.
"I am not going to tell you whether you should fast or not," smart man.
Sigh.
I sat for a  moment, my finger idly swiping across the front of our iPad.  I look at my girls, they are chomping away.  I don't think it's really the hunger that is bothering me, although she already growled in my belly.  I know that if I fast but don't take the time to pray, it doesn't work.  Just leaves me hungry and angry.  Hangry, if you will.  The time, was bothering me.  The time I knew I needed to take away from my family to do this.
I looked over at Scott, who was now seated and munching away at his lunch,
"This only works if I go away and pray," I said.
"That's fine," he shrugged, his tone clearly and truly positive.
"It's okay if I go upstairs and read my bible?"
"Yep," he repeated, with the same tone.
I slammed the iPad closed and was upstairs.
I can't say that the time was the most meditative.  I read through Matthew's telling of the crucifixion.  I tried to pray, but was feeling too lazy to write, and I could hear my children yelling and fighting.
At least I did it.
I told myself I could eat at four.
So there it is; my sacrifice.  Jesus dies on the cross and I'm going to let myself get a little peckish.
I suppose it's one of those cycles where we can't repay what we've been given.
We can't repay our parents for what they've done for us.
My children can't repay me for what I've done for them.  Get me a tummy tuck? Sure that'd be nice, but by the time they can afford it I probably won't care anymore.
But I did it, I fasted.  I denied myself, I read my Bible, I took time out to remind myself of my faith.  That's more than I do on most days.  A bit of hunger in an overfed country.  A bit of asceticism in a land of hedonism.   

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