I’ve told you that in our church, we fast once a month and donate the value of the meals we miss, to the blessing of the poor. I have been on the receiving end of other people’s fast offerings; truly a blessing and a privilege to know that the lights would remain on, or there would be gas to run the stove and heat the baths, because several somebodies sacrificed their comfort and their means in order that we and others like us [the poor and/or the needy] might have our needs met.
When the missionaries taught me about fasting, I remember that it made no sense to me, but I wanted to be obedient. And I soon learned to love its refining influence. I never got the headaches or wooziness some people get when they fast. This continued for a little over two years, until I became pregnant with Firstborn. For me, pregnancy and fasting, or pregnancy and nursing, didn’t mix. And I was pregnant or nursing or both, or trying to get pregnant, for most of the next eleven and a half years.
After LittleBit was weaned, I tried to resume the practice, with varying degrees of success. And a few years ago, I was on first one medicine, and then a second, both of which needed to be taken once or twice daily, with food. Very frustrating, as I wanted the peace and strength which come to me from fasting.
Our good stake president visited our ward two weeks ago and invited us to dedicate our fast this month to personal spiritual growth. And I said to myself, well, I guess that means I had better try fasting again. I have been off both of those medicines for several months now, and I could think of no reason not to fast, except perhaps inertia.
We had our monthly singles’ break-the-fast potluck last night, but our regular fireside was superseded by one for all adults in the stake. We heard from the new CES coordinator [Church Education System, over seminary for the high school students and institute for the college students]. He is filling the position of my friend who passed away last year, and he gives new meaning to the phrase dynamic speaker.
We are supposed to fast for two meals and then give the value of the food we would have consumed, to the blessing of the poor and needy. In reality, I was only able to manage one meal, but it was a good 15 hours since dinner on Saturday night, and a step firmly back in the right direction, and I felt the difference.
And I had my first RS emergency last night after the fireside, but we handled it. My compassionate service leader is also single, and she was standing a few feet away when I learned of the problem. We counseled together; I came home and did a little research in the ward phone directory and made a few phone calls, and then a flurry of emails to let people know it was covered.
I handed over the baby socks after sacrament meeting yesterday. Big sister immediately commandeered them and wanted to put them on. Cute, funny, and oh so human!
I am back at work on the Sunrise Circle Jacket this morning. I have another pair of baby socks on the needles; that was my default knitting project yesterday. I have no doubt that I will turn around, and another young sister in the ward will be giving us another baby to love. I need to stock up on cards, or sit down and make a bunch [in all my free time].
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!