The first time I ever fasted was in seventh grade. I did it completely on my own on Good Friday. How could I go to school like every other day and go to gym class and do Spanish homework and an art project for Mr. Hutch? It was the day Christendom commemorated the crucifixion. To move through a regular, ordinary day was all wrong to the dramatic, junior high school girl I was. Fasting was my way to observe, acknowledge, and attempt some sort of response.
There's not a lot to choose from. When I look at the cross I'm at a loss for words or deeds. I feel so undone and inadequate. I was then, and I still am thirty years later. But even at twelve, I knew I had to do something. In the face of God's extravagance towards man, doing nothing was not an option.
God of wonders tortured to death was an injustice to Jesus' righteousness. Engaging in my ordianry day would have been tragic to the same proportion. It would trample his grace. So I fasted to mourn his sacrifice and to feel my need of it. It was the beginning of a lifelong response to God and his grace.
~ ~ ~Daniel Fast Reflections From the Beginning:
Day 1 :: Food
Day 2 :: Slow
Day 3 :: Foreign
Day 4 :: Hunger
Day 5 :: Life
Day 6 :: Free
Day 7 :: Praise