I approached him at the breakfast table and asked, "Do you know what day it is?"
"Sunday," he replied, and continued drawing. Clearly he had no idea what I was getting at. Not even the faintest glimmer of recognition flitted across his face. He apparently had zero recollection of being given this assignment, or even what a globe was.
"Sunday," he replied, and continued drawing. Clearly he had no idea what I was getting at. Not even the faintest glimmer of recognition flitted across his face. He apparently had zero recollection of being given this assignment, or even what a globe was.
"True," I said. "But do you remember anything about this Sunday that's different?"
My son gave me a totally blank look, but from the other room, my daughter piped in: "It's Fast Sunday?"
...Oh.
If you don't belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints you're probably wondering what the heck Fast Sunday is. Once a month, we don't eat or drink for 24 hours (i.e: two meals). This sounds awful, but it serves 2 purposes: one, the money we would've spent on food gets donated to help needy people in our area, and two, we choose a special purpose to pray about while we're fasting.
In theory, I think fasting is great. You're putting your spiritual needs in front of your temporal needs, realizing your mortal weakness, and increasing your reliance on God.
In practice, I become the unreasonable troll I became as a kid when I missed lunchtime, and overall I just didn't have a very positive attitude about fasting in general. Having had 5 kids in the last 10 years, more often than not I've got the convenient excuse in my pocket that I'm either pregnant or nursing, and therefore can't fast. But sometimes, it's a crutch that I'm still using months after weaning a baby and the real reason is that... um... well... I just don't want to, okay?
When my daughter reminded me it was Fast Sunday, I was tempted to just skip fasting this month. I'd completely forgotten about it until this moment. I wasn't mentally prepared, I hadn't prayerfully chosen a purpose, I just had all kinds of reasons why I shouldn't fast today.
But if I was being honest, I'd have to admit that was just another crutch, and I really had no reason not to.
Even though I hadn't lost myself to debauchery and riotous living (that I know of), I'd been turned more toward my own list of desires than I was toward God.
What had started this morning as an on-the-fly decision to start fasting and stop being so obsessed with things that don't matter ended up teaching me a really important lesson: God blesses you immediately when you turn back to Him.
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| People don't generally get tattoos in our church, but if I got one this would be mine. |
When my daughter reminded me it was Fast Sunday, I was tempted to just skip fasting this month. I'd completely forgotten about it until this moment. I wasn't mentally prepared, I hadn't prayerfully chosen a purpose, I just had all kinds of reasons why I shouldn't fast today.
But if I was being honest, I'd have to admit that was just another crutch, and I really had no reason not to.
I chose a purpose for my fast and knelt down to pray about it. I admitted to God that I'd had my priorities mixed up and asked for help in sorting it out. Then I got up, showered, and got everyone ready for church.
Considering my less-than-stellar attitude about fasting, no one was more surprised than me by what followed. I had such a great day at church. I was overflowing with joy as I listened to the messages in sacrament meeting, and found myself riveted by our Sunday School classes afterward. (The block of Sunday meetings in my church lasts several hours, which is a really long time to be riveted by anything.)
When it was almost time to go home, a thought struck me: "I didn't do anything to deserve this."
I'd had a such a spiritually rejuvenating Sunday, which I think was a direct gift from the Lord, but I hadn't done a single thing to deserve it — except for offering a prayer that morning repenting for my omissions and being willing to change.
As it turned out, that's all that was necessary. I didn't have to prove myself to God. He didn't put me on probation for a few weeks or months first to prove that I really meant it. As soon as I recommitted myself to the right path, He blessed me like I'd never taken a detour in the first place.
I won't pretend I didn't once snap at my kids/husband/innocent bystanders like Chris Farley in the Gap Girls sketch from Saturday Night Live ("Lay off me, I'm starving!"), but I was trying.
When I consider my experience on that Fast Sunday, a new insight from the parable of the prodigal son stuck out to me in a way it hadn't before. When the prodigal son returned home assuming he'd have to work his way back up into his dad's good graces, he'd been wrong. The second he showed up his father threw him a party.
Considering my less-than-stellar attitude about fasting, no one was more surprised than me by what followed. I had such a great day at church. I was overflowing with joy as I listened to the messages in sacrament meeting, and found myself riveted by our Sunday School classes afterward. (The block of Sunday meetings in my church lasts several hours, which is a really long time to be riveted by anything.)
When it was almost time to go home, a thought struck me: "I didn't do anything to deserve this."
I'd had a such a spiritually rejuvenating Sunday, which I think was a direct gift from the Lord, but I hadn't done a single thing to deserve it — except for offering a prayer that morning repenting for my omissions and being willing to change.
As it turned out, that's all that was necessary. I didn't have to prove myself to God. He didn't put me on probation for a few weeks or months first to prove that I really meant it. As soon as I recommitted myself to the right path, He blessed me like I'd never taken a detour in the first place.
I won't pretend I didn't once snap at my kids/husband/innocent bystanders like Chris Farley in the Gap Girls sketch from Saturday Night Live ("Lay off me, I'm starving!"), but I was trying.
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| Luke 15: 11-32 |
When I consider my experience on that Fast Sunday, a new insight from the parable of the prodigal son stuck out to me in a way it hadn't before. When the prodigal son returned home assuming he'd have to work his way back up into his dad's good graces, he'd been wrong. The second he showed up his father threw him a party.
Even though I hadn't lost myself to debauchery and riotous living (that I know of), I'd been turned more toward my own list of desires than I was toward God.
What had started this morning as an on-the-fly decision to start fasting and stop being so obsessed with things that don't matter ended up teaching me a really important lesson: God blesses you immediately when you turn back to Him.
And while I was busy learning that, my son was busy forgetting the globe he was asked to bring to Sunday School. We'll work on that.
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