Hungry for a True Fast

Ash Wednesday is quickly approaching, and with it comes the yearly question:

As a recovering anorexic, how best can I observe Lent?

I’m good at fasting.  Really good. 

I wish I could say that it was because I was so spiritually mature, because my flesh is so docile and submissive and moderate.  In truth, it’s just that my sinful flesh is a control freak, and finds it a whole lot easier to fast than to admit its dependence on anything, be it food or God. 

I’ve looked and looked, but I have yet to find anybody talking about this topic.  The universal consensus seems to be that anyone with medical counter-indications should clearly be excused from fasting, but there’s a resounding silence regarding what we should do.   

In years past, I’ve attempted non-physical lenten disciplines, such as giving up television or the internet.  Sad to say, that didn’t work out so well.  During my internet fast, I freely gave up encouraging others and keeping in touch with friends, while somehow managing to replace all my internet time-wasters with equally worthless passtimes.  What is worse, by making my lenten disciplines solely mental and non-physical, I reinforced the divide between body and soul that is at the heart of anorexia.

There’s a reason why the spiritual disciplines have traditionally been so physical and tangible.  If Jesus is not Lord of my body, any attempt to make Him Lord of my soul is an excercise in self-delusion.

So this year, I’m going to watch.  My flesh may not like to eat, but it sure loves it some sleep. 

In fact, as I think about it, sleep is what enables my flesh to declare it’s independence from food and from God.  Fasting, rightly done, should turn one’s attention and reliance from food toward God.  However, when I don’t eat, I just replace food with sleep, sleep, and more sleep.

So maybe if I replace sleep with prayer–just a little bit, each night–I can cut straight to the heart of things, and start to place my whole dependence on Christ.

I’m not going to give up very much sleep, actually.  After all, God is not glorified when I give shoddy service to my family.   I’m only going to give up the “extra” sleep–the sleep I use to make up for interrupted sleep during the night, or inadequate nutrition during the day.  When the kids keep me up during the night, with God’s help I will not sleep in, but will rather submit to this little sacrifice, remembering Christ’s sacrifice for me.  And when I just don’t eat enough to sustain much activity at all, with God’s help I won’t crash out early, but rather pray for strength… and accept God’s wondrous provision of energy, so graciously given in the form of a cheeseburger.

Sundays, I will rest in honor of the resurrection, but on Friday, in commemoration of Christ’s sufferings, I will wake for one hour of prayer in the middle of the night.

That last is intimidating indeed.  I feel weak and inadequate as I contemplate all the saints who have done that very thing night after night, year-round… and here I am, afraid to watch one hour on lenten Fridays?  As I count the cost of my tiny little discipline, I’m astonished to realize how frail and fleshly I really am.

But maybe that’s the point.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.