Busyknitter

Our bishop encouraged everyone in the diocese to fast for 24 hours around Ash Wednesday. It didn’t have to be a complete fast, suggestions were given for fasting from cars, from watching the telly that sort of thing.

My church actually had a party on Ash Wednesday. A little unusual, you mght think, shouldn’t we have had the social the day before and given Ash Wednesday over to penitence and prayer? Normally, yes, but 1st March 2006 was the the 10th anniversary of the comissioning of our lovely, modern church building. So,the decision was made to have the social on the Wednesday and put great emphasis on fasting for the preceding 24 hours.

I always approach this kind of thing with great trepidation. I’ve read all the books that tell me how fasting is an essential christian discipline, that regular periods of fasting will awaken in me a new spiritual hunger and deepen my relationship with God. But the truth is, ever since I first became pregnant (over 12 years ago now), I can’t miss a meal without keeling over. I’m also a complete caffeine addict.

But I decided to go for it. The plan was to eat a decent dinner on Tuesday and then nothing but water until Wednesday evening. How hard could that be?

Well, by 10 am Wednesday, my tummy was rumbling and I was feeling a bit light headed. I was invited as a guest to the regular team meeting of one of my groups of staff at the college. A cup of tea was thrust into my hand as soon as I sat down. There was no way I was going to come over all pious and refuse it on the grounds of fasting so I drank it, thinking - one cuppa won’t hurt. I’ll still do without the food.

By 1pm, I was sitting at my desk trying to do some work. My head was thumping and I just couldn’t concentrate. And that’s when i cracked and went to the refectory for a plate of sausage and chips. This, gentle readers was I think my greatest mistake. I probably should have just had a sandwich.

As the afternoon wore on I was feeling worse, not better. My last event of that day was a 2-hour meeting with the auditors. And by then I was feeling physically sick. I got through the meeting as best I could (hope they didn’t think I was a complete idiot).

I went home at 5pm, collapsed into bed and went straight to sleep. Was woken up 40 minutes later by T falling off a chair that he was dancing on while wearing my high heels! The sleep helped, but there was no way I was fit to go out, so no party after all.

Which brings me back to my original question. What is fasting actually for? The only effect that it had on me was to more or less put me out of action for a day. And rather than bring me closer to God, well I just spent the whole day thinking about myself and my feeble constitution.