I am eating very little these days, and it's been surprisingly easy. My Lenten fast has limited me to fruits, veggies, a few nuts, and a small portion of fish. I've found I'm rarely hungry.
The exception is when I smell food.
When the fragrance of food is in the air, the battle begins for real. My belly squawks, my mouth salivates, and my mind wanders to fanciful places where the plates are piled high with rationalizations about why I should break my fast.
Last night a friend gave me tickets to the Spurs game. I ate before I went, but when I got into the arena and smelled the popcorn, the cotton candy, the nachos, and the various foods of which I am now deprived, my stomach started to roar.
I did without.
It helped knowing the only things I could permit myself to have were salted peanuts and water which would have set me back 8 dollars. The cries of my stomach were not loud enough to overpower the ring of insanity in that.
I'm sure it's a biological reaction that our sense of smell activates the desire for food - an instinctual survival trait.
I suspect it extends farther than our bellies.
I asked my friend, Ben, to come to the game with me last night. I invited him in part to thank him for helping me recently, but also because I needed to be around Ben's inherent Christian wisdom.
Our visit sparked a hunger in me as well.
I am grateful to know of the abundance available to feed that craving.
Psalm 17:14
O Lord , by Your hand save me from such men, from men of this world whose reward is in this life. You still the hunger of those You cherish; their sons have plenty, and they store up wealth for their children.
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