The Odyssey

November 29, 2009 Cindy

The Odyssey

It sounded simple enough…  He wasn’t challenging us to a total fast… just 3 days eating rice and beans and drinking only water.  It was a chance to symbolically become one with the millions of people who eat like that every day.  Since we were to carry out this feat on the 3 days leading up to Thanksgiving, it would have the added benefit of making us REALLY thankful for the feast on Thursday. 

I bought my aluminum cup, fashioned by an artisan from India, and went to the store to stock up on flavored rice side dishes and beans.  The following Sunday night, I made some red beans and rice (from a box) and also cooked up some pinto beans that I found in the pantry.  I cheated a little there, I think, as I added some onion and stewed tomatoes to make them more palatable.  Not really sure, though, because even the poor must have some spices… right? 

Monday:  One heaping cup of red beans and rice for breakfast.  Not too bad.  I can do this.  My associates were having a potluck but I just avoided all of their delicacies.  By lunch I was feeling a little bloated but managed to eat all of the homemade from scratch pinto beans that I had packed with a dollop of some spicy salsa.  Then, feeling a bit sluggish on top of my bloat, I went for a little walk.  On my drive home from work, my husband called me to see what I would be making for his dinner.  He didn’t want to participate in the challenge, you see.  I reminded him that I would be having beans and rice and suggested that he order a pizza.  He then asks how many I think he should buy and asks if I will be having any.  Apparently he has a short term memory disorder so I reiterate that I will not be eating pizza as I will be having beans and rice.  His reply?? “Oh, you know you’ll eat some.”   Once at home, I pile up a bunch of beans and rice in my bowl with a cup of ice cold water and try to look like I’m enjoying it while my family eats pizza.  I do manage not to succumb to their meal and I take another walk but my tummy is really full and I am not feeling very good.   I check out Central’s twittered encouragement to the participants and feel a tad ashamed that I hadn’t been praying for the hungry.  I’d been praying for myself and my discomfort.

Tuesday:  Woke up with the feeling of a large rock in my gut and broke my fast with only eat a few small bites of rice and very few beans.  I put my lunch together and head off for work.  Since I still felt uncomfortably bloated, I ate only half of my lunch.  My stomach was growling on my way home so I begin to think about this challenge and how I now recognize that while I only have to tough it out for 3 days, there are those who eat beans and rice day in and day out.  I was making a choice to participate in this challenge where they have no choice in the matter if they want to avoid starvation.  Choices… choices… I have so many to make every day: to go to work or stay home, to eat now or later, to eat a bowlful or a spoonful, to close the window or leave it open, to turn on the heat or pull out an extra blanket, to wear these pants or that skirt, to put ice in my bottled water or drink rodeo cool, clean tap water…    That was a very insightful drive home with God reminding me of how truly blessed we are in this country and with God reminding me of the true lesson behind the challenge. 

 Wednesday:  The last day.  Hungry and tired of my home cooked beans and rice, I walk to a nearby Mexican food joint for lunch and order delicious rice and refried beans, completely aware that this isn’t a choice that the hungry really have.  But, I haven’t broken any of the “rules”… it’s still rice and beans.  That evening as I lay in bed with my tummy growling, I knew that I had made it!  I knew that I would be able to eat a traditional Thanksgiving meal with my family with a new empathy for those who are less fortunate than I and I lift them up in my prayers. 

My Thanksgiving meal was good and I ate way too much!  I shared some of the previous 3 days insights to my extended family.  None of whom seemed to “get it”.  Indeed, they even told me I was crazy.  Of course, the ways of God are foolishness to those who don’t know Him.  I know though, that God spoke to me through this experience and I definitely learned through it.  I pray that my sharing at the dinner table planted a mustard seed in the heart of one of my loved ones.

I was convicted by how little I thought of the oppressed, the sick, the hungry.  A question still haunts my mind:  What am I prepared to do to help them?

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