I’m down to the last few hours of my three day fast: one day lemon-water only and two days watermelon with water chasers – three days longer than I ever fasted. I can’t say the experience pleased me but it kept me out of mischief. That is something.
Yesterday at church, my friend and I engaged in a conversation about fasting, when another joined in the conversation. I said that I managed to get through the experience by remembering that Jesus fasted forty days and I only needed to survive three.
The third person said, “…but Jesus had someone holding his hand.”
I said, “I would like to think the same hand was holding mine.”
“No,” she said, “God was really holding Jesus’ hand.”
“I understand…”
It seems my Christian friend could not believe that the same God that held Jesus hand could hold mine. I believe that Paul and I could not have lived through everything we have without God holding our hands. We are about to face surgery together – husband and wife sharing danger with the hope of a better quality of life. We cannot do that without a little faith.
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