A few weeks ago, our church took part in a 3-day fast to pray over what God has in store for us in the new year. We each made lists of specific things to pray for for our selves, our church, and other people.
It had been years since I'd fasted, and I was not looking forward to this one. I'd tried to convince myself that the Lord wanted me to fast everything else under the sun...as long as He wasn't asking me to go without food. Turns out He was asking me just that.
The first day was the hardest, really. When dinner time came, I'd already had two fruit smoothies, and couldn't stand another. I decided to heat up a cup of chicken broth. The whole time I was sipping the warm broth, all I could think of was how blissful a cracker would be. I wanted just one bite of a cracker worse than I'd ever wanted anything! For the rest of the 3-day duration, I wanted crackers more than any other food. I didn't care about big juicy burgers or sandwiches or anything else - only crackers.
The fast was set to end on Tuesday evening after the church service. We went to the service, and about halfway through, they announced that we were about to have communion. When they began to pass the communion plate, I looked up and there they were: dozens of broken pieces of crackers. My first thought was, "Crackers!!! Yesss!", but then the revelation hit me. All during those 3 days of craving crackers, what I had been craving was Jesus: His broken body, His saving grace, His Holy Spirit surrounding me.
It was the most somber, reflective Lord's Supper I've ever taken, and it will change the way I take part in them from now on.