Throughout Lent, we’ll be posting a series of reflections from members of our church community. This week’s post comes from Lesley-Ann Hix, who is currently a student at McAfee School of Theology.

It was a really ambitious Lenten practice to take on, I admit.  But even through its challenges, a bit of fasting has been transformational for me so far.  In my spiritual formation class, we’ve been discussing different spiritual practices that could be nurturing to us, no matter if our home tradition encouraged their exploration.  They are things like fasting, different kinds of prayer, songs, and silence.  Since I had little exposure to the practice of fasting, I decided to fast once a week during Lent, and I set-out to follow the ancient church practice of beginning the fast every Friday at noon and breaking it on Sunday mornings.  They practiced this fast every week, reflecting on the death and resurrection of Jesus.  But for an unpracticed person, fasting that long is way more than I could manage every week.  So it quickly (and by quickly, I mean the very first week) turned into fasting all day on Saturdays, and I simply dismissed the half day of no food on Fridays.

The hunger pains are easy to move past.  It’s the consequential headache and incredible decrease in energy that makes it hard to accomplish anything on Saturdays.  It’s amazing how the human body shuts down after not receiving food, and mine just gets incredibly irritable.  I’ve tried reading or doing homework, but the only thing that seems to work during my fasting time is focusing on what God has to say to me.  My roommate is very aware of my Lenten practice (she’s drinking nothing but water until Easter), but that did not stop her from settling on the Food Network one Saturday.  She asked me how difficult it is to fast for a whole day, and I told her that besides the headache (which might be just a symptom of lack of caffeine), it’s not bad until I wake up the following morning.  “There’s an ache that just takes over my whole body,” I told her.  With a face full of worry, and obviously thinking about those who go without food on a regular basis, she said, “Oh, that makes me hurt so bad.”  How easy it is for me to move on with my regular week, eating as I would normally eat, and forgetting the struggle for energy that ensues every Saturday.  How easy it is for me to consume and consume, stressing about how to make ends meet, and forgetting that there are millions living happily on a fraction of what I do.  How easy it is to go about normal life and let the knowledge of hungry people everywhere, that seems ever so present on Saturday, slip my mind.

I’m learning a lot about myself during this season of Lent.  I’m learning that forgiveness and reconciliation and honesty is sometimes difficult to face but necessary for strong relationships.  I’m learning that I spend too much time spending and too little time offering the gifts God gave me to those who might need them.  But more than anything, I’m finding that God is where my mind turns when I shut off the pressure of world.  And God then turns my mind back to the world with a different conscience than I first approached it.  My journey to the cross this season, through a fasting practice, has been transformational for me, even if I am counting down the weeks until I get to have Saturday morning pancakes again.

Throughout the season of Lent, we’ll be posting a series of reflections from members of our church community. This week’s post comes from Alison Simon. Alison is a student at Texas Christian University, and is studying abroad in Spain this semester.

Have you ever made a decision without knowing why, and then later discovered that “why” piece of the puzzle you were missing?  For Lent this year, I decided to take on a new attitude.  My attitude was not awful; however, I wanted to adopt an angle on life without fear of embarrassment.  I am an independent person, but only as long as I am positive I will not be embarrassed.  My decision to change this life approach was in no small way influenced by my being abroad in Spain.  I thought that I had made this commitment for a new approach so that I could absorb as many experiences as possible over my five months in Spain, and I had been doing a pretty good job of it.  But, I still seemed to be missing part of the “why.”

Standing in line to get into the Flamenco show with a group of TCU students, my friend Allie began videotaping us and asking everyone questions specific to their experiences in Spain.  When she got to me, she did not ask, “What is your favorite part of Spain?” or “What is your favorite food so far?”  No, she asked me, “What is your inspiration?”

My immediate response was, “my travel book,” but the question kept bugging me because I realized that I really did not know the answer.  Why had I really decided to take on this new attitude?  As I prepared to write this article, I read John 12:20-33, and the Message used a translation of verse 25 which I had never considered: “Anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you’ll have it forever, real and eternal.”

Suddenly, I knew the “why.”  I wanted to change my outlook because I no longer wanted to hold onto life just as it is; I wanted to “let it go” and explore new options.  I wanted to be able to accept change (and embarrassment) so that I can experience this “reckless love” that makes life real.  Hopefully, this is a commitment I can uphold for longer than just these forty days of Lent.

Do you wonder about faith?  I do.  How do you learn to have faith?  Where do you go to get it?  Once you have it is it always there?  Can you lose it?  Is faith something you can give away?  “Here, you want some of my faith?  I got a little extra, you can have it.  But I might need it back later.”  How do you teach faith?  What page is that on in the Bible?  Do they teach that course at seminary?  FAITH-301.  What would the prerequisites be?  Are the exams written, oral or practical?  Do you get a grade in Faith class or is it a pass/fail course?  Just how do you measure faith?  Is it small or large?  What is a little faith?  Is that where you start?  Would I die for my faith?  I’d like to think that I would but I’m not sure I want to find out.  Does that mean I wouldn’t  die for my faith?  So, many questions about faith.  Why is faith so difficult?

After pondering this faith business off and on, organizing and reorganizing my thoughts on the matter.  I have settled on it in this manner.  Learning to have faith is sort of like learning to walk.  You just do it.

I sat my granddaughter, Lelah, down for ‘the talk’ when she started showing an interest in walking.  I said, Lelah , my beautiful child, you are only 8 months old.  Are you sure you want to undertake this endeavor?  It’s going to be tough.  You’re going to do some crying, maybe even get a bloody nose.  Lelah knows where her nose is, so she pointed to her nose.  At the least, child, there will be bumps and bruises.  Are you ready for that?  Why don’t you just sit and play for a few more months.  Let your Mom and Dad carry you around for a while longer.  You know, once you start down this path there is no turning back.  I laid it all out for her and she listened intently.  When I had finished Lelah looked at me for a while.  Then she crawled off babbling, on her way to the coffee table, where she promptly pulled herself up to a standing position.  I guess I had her answer.  So I went over to Lelah and let her grab my pointer fingers and we went for a walk.  As we walked I told Lelah that her Poppy wouldn’t always be there as a crutch for her.  I explained to her that she would need to rely on her inner ear to maintain her balance.  Lelah knows where her ears are so she let go of my fingers to point to them.  Yep, she fell.  That was lesson #1.  It wasn’t long and she was back on her feet ready to try more walking.  It’s been over 200 days now and Lelah is becoming quite the little walker.  We did have many more lessons and I probably should mention that Lelah’s parents did help some with her training in my absence.  Fortunately, no one kept count of the falling and crying and frustration.  Lelah just kept working at it and like magic she got better and better at walking.  It won’t be long now and she will be running, trying to keep up with her cousins.  One day when Lelah decides to talk, I’m sure she will be thanking Poppy for all his help teaching her to walk.

You can think about faith and read about faith and talk with others about faith but in the end you have to have your own faith.  You just decide you want it and start using it and it happens by instinct.  Let your inner self take control.  After all it did a pretty good job teaching you to walk.  It all starts with desire.  Go out and do it.  There will be bumps along the way.  Just keep working at it.  Have a little faith. Take a walk and it will grow.