This morning, I felt confident about my challenge for the day. To go a full day eating nothing but one bowl of rice. (To see why, please read yesterday’s blog post A Lesson In Uncle Ben’s). Now that the day is over, I wish I could say that I rose to the challenge, graciously enduring this uncomfortable experience, but all I can say is this…
The morning was not too bad. I dropped my daughter at school, then came home and crawled back into bed so I could sleep away some more of the day. When I awoke for the second time, I was definitely feeling more hungry. So I distracted myself with my computer. I googled hunger, and read many websites about the children in this world who face it every day, to remind myself why I was doing this.
By afternoon, I was starving, and so looking forward to the one bowl of rice I was allowing myself. The longest 20 minutes of the day was waiting for the rice to cook. By this time, I felt tired, I had a headache, and as my kids predicted, I was cranky. I was not their favorite person by the end of the day, and it probably didn’t help that I responded to their every statement with “at least you ate today”.
By evening, all I could think about was crawling into bed and praying for morning to come so I could eat a hearty breakfast. And now that it is night time, and I am sitting in my bed typing this entry, I think back in disbelief to the thought that I was going to give up chocolate for Lent, as if that was some sort of great sacrifice. I think of all the times I tossed out perfectly good leftovers, or let food go bad in my fridge because of poor planning. Tossing it away thinking that there’s plenty more where that came from.
But the most sobering thought of all as I think of that one bowl of rice is this…even my dogs ate twice.