I'm not good at fasting. For the longest time, I didn't understand fasting. Even now, just barely. On Sunday night, Anthem came to me, rather grumpily, and said, rather quietly, "I think I need to talk to you about something but I really don't want to."
I blinked. "Say what?"
He took a deep breath and slowed down, but still looked incredibly reluctant. "I think I need to talk to you about something but I really don't want to." He sighed. "I think we should fast from all visual entertainment for a week."
I nodded, "I think you're right."
"Dang it."
And so we started. And I've been loving it. We've talked more, spent more quality time together, and gotten more done than I anticipated. It's been good. We've even been sleeping better. I had anticipated most of these results.
The one I didn't anticipate was this growing thirst. Not one water can quench. But a thirst for coolness, quietness, and deep prayer. A thirst for silence. I'm starting to think that when something is always going on in front of my eyes, there is no room to thirst for something that is missing.
I always heard that fasting, especially food, is about reminding us what is of true importance, and mastering the flesh. I've never been a huge fan of fasting from food, but then again I'm not exactly healthy enough to pull it off either. But maybe... I was missing the point. Maybe the point is taking things away to be able to hear yourself, and God.
No comments:
Post a Comment