once upon a time, in an analogy far far away...

i woke up that saturday morning, as i often did, later than usual and hungering, as i often was, for some kind of connection with some kind of god. so i pondered, as i often did, if perhaps fasting and praying for the day would suffice (this process usually involved the following three things: considering what i ate and what time i ate dinner the night before, gauging how hungry i was at the moment (to see if i could actually make it through the day without collapsing), and what tasks i had before me for the day (i.e. sermon, sabbath school teaching, children's story, etc.)). on this particular day, i decided that abstaining from food would be a good way for me to stay focused on what i thought was important. yes. no food would venture into my mouth for the next 24 hours. i had made my decision. i no longer desired food. food was not something i was interested in.

church was great. i successfully ignored the pangs of hunger.

then, by some cruel cosmic twist of people and places and events, i accidentally stumbled upon the fellowship room where i discovered... the pena's food. enchiladas that only showed up once every month or two. rice that would make your mother weep. the smells alone were enough to take down jericho. and there was enough of them to feed jericho too! (it makes me mad just thinking about it)

"it just had to be today didn't it?! couldn't wait to bring 'em till next week, could you?! you probably put those in the oven just knowing that i was gonna be fasting! how can i pass them up now? it might be another two months before i get another chance like this! i could DIE before i ever see this food again! it looks so good!"

one hour later i could not force another bite of those stupidly delicious enchiladas down my esophagus.