Dearest Rachel –
This morning, when I woke up and reached for my phone (to see what time it is, honest! I’m not gonna look through my news feed until I know I’m not going to go back to sleep, and need to use the washroom. Yes, that happened this time around, and yes, it was convenient for me to already have my phone in my hand, but I swear I’m not specifically picking it up to scroll through it just as I’m waking up), I was greeted with a message from Daniel – which I guess he wanted me to see before I headed out this morning, and in case he didn’t wake up before I made my way home. He informed me that he was going to be fasting today, in honor of Pentecost Eve.
To be honest, I appreciate the constructive notice. That probably sounds odd to you, considering the dismay I was expressing hardly a month ago as our week on the island was winding down. But that was in a completely different context; I’d brought enough food there to feed the four of us, and would have preferred to lug back home as little as possible. Moreover, we’d built up a cache of leftovers that really had to be finished before we left, as it would be hard-pressed to survive the trip home. Given your distaste for wasting food, you must be able to understand my position, especially considering that his decision seemed (to me, at least) to have come out of nowhere. These days, it seems he has a pattern of doing this before important days (and what would have been more important a day – at least on a personal level – than casting you adrift in your beloved lake?), so I really should have seen it coming. Still, I was caught off guard by it at the time, and as a result, I wasn’t particularly happy about it.
This time around, he’s letting me know about this so I won’t be caught off guard. By now you know about how I make a practice of picking up a smoothie for him every week on my way home from the men’s Bible study; this notice precludes me from doing so and being greeted with disappointment rather than gratitude. In addition, it’s nice to know that he doesn’t expect me to bring something home every week for him like I once feared he would – or more accurately, if he does, it’s not that he’s going to be demanding of it. On the contrary, he’s taking the trouble to deliberately preempt me from doing so when he has reasons (however arcane to me) to eschew the practice.
And I’ll grant that I really don’t understand the concept; something I’ve told you about before. The church is trying to get people more involved in certain worship practices, and this is one of them that has been touted now and again. I’ve even engaged in it, although not as a religious practice, but as part of my effort to lose weight. To be honest – and you’ve heard me say this before in these letters, I’m sure – I haven’t been able to understand how it serves to focus one’s mind on the things of God. Oh, it focuses one’s mind, yes, but that much more on the things my stomach craves; my mind has to bribe it with suggestions as to how I might splash out as a reward for sticking to it for that… much… longer. Either that, or I have to engage myself in sufficient entertainment that my mind is distracted from hearing, let alone listening, to my stomach’s complaints. It’s all hardly conducive to piety, as far as I can tell. I won’t deny that I’m probably doing it wrong, but I haven’t quite figured out how to do it right thus far.
That having been said, I will probably join him in this fast after I have breakfast with the guys this morning. It certainly couldn’t do me any harm to go a day (well, a twenty-four hour period, anyway) without eating, that’s for sure. Despite having been more consistent in showing up at the gym this week, I’ve not had much luck in approaching the two-ten line these days; in fact, I’ve been nudged over the wrong side of two-fifteen for the last couple of mornings. I’d like to think it’s due to having replaced fat with muscle (the latter of which is heavier between comparable volumes), but that’s probably a story I’m just telling myself so I don’t lose sleep about it. In any event, a little intermittent fasting would, at the very least, get me back on track with where I’m trying to go.
Besides, a little bit of solidarity with Daniel wouldn’t be a bad thing either. I might not be able to receive the kind of spiritual benefit he appears to get out of it, but the fact that I’m sort of joining with him (eventually) should be something he can appreciate. It’s not the typical father-son activity (to be honest, it’s more of an inactivity, when you come down to it), but being mutual on this can be a bonding experience of its own.
And with that being said, honey, this isn’t necessarily going to be easy, so keep an eye on me, and wish me luck. I’m going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 