I'd say it's safe to say I failed at my fast this year.
The pastor of my little neighborhood church of ragamuffin hippies called us to a Daniel Fast and a good number of us took to the Vegan-sugarless-no enriched grains diet with as much glee as we could muster. Our hippy background helped I'm sure.
Last year my heart really wasn't in it but I was proud of how well my hubby stuck with it. This year I was determined to stick with him and do it whole-erm-tofu. (Get it... The phrase is whole hog...) and in the beginning it was going great. Here is where I would put all the fabulous pictures of the recipies I made if I has been savvy enough to take photos of them before I ate them. But alas, they were good and I was hungry so there is no evidence of my fabulousness. Then life happened.
When I get sad or overwhelmed I quite simply turn to chocolate. I'm fairly certain chocolate is not ok for the Daniel fast. It would start off small, just a piece or two, and then when my sweet husband brought home a bag of chocolate Easter eggs that I devoured in one sitting I begged forgiveness from Jesus. On facebook. Sigh.
A couple different friends talked about failing at fasting and how it reminded them all the more of how much they need him. I guess I already know I need him and it depresses me slightly that even the smallest thing I can do for him I still fail at.
Maybe though it's kind of like playing sports. In that some practices, and even games, everything gets botched but it's still not for nothing. A new skill is learned or honed even despite losing. I just never have like losing, at anything. It would be good to remember which team I am on though. The team of the one who won it all for all of us, with a savior who beat Death itself. This past Eastern season was a time to reflect and give glory to him. And even if I didn't do it all that well, that even a bit of my selfish heart was turned towards him is a big win. Of that I'm sure.