I knew that Lent was "forty days not including Sundays," but I never stopped to consider what that meant. You won't be surprised at my joy when I learned, from a RA who ought to know, that in Catholic practice the fast does not include the Lord's Day. So on Sunday I can do (or rather, eat) what I want*. So this is my first feast day and it couldn't come at a better time - it's Spring Break here at USF, and my sister is here to visit for the week. It's providential that we are both participating in this fast, because otherwise it would be a miserable week for one of us.
This first feast day has been full of small blessings, some of which were in disguise. I got up at an obscene hour this morning to drive to Waterloo only to discover that my sister's train was delayed by an hour... but as I sat there for an hour and a half waiting for her to arrive, I got to watch a beautiful sunrise. We got breakfast at a cute little diner, and let me tell you pancakes and bacon have never tasted so good. I went to church alone while my sister napped to make up for the sleep lost on the train, and then we went out to dinner and found the best pizza ever at Toscani Pizzeria. Again, pizza and Sam Adam's have never tasted so good. There was ice cream, later, and a movie, and general happiness. It was a good Sabbath.
It kind of sounds like my day was driven by food, doesn't it? And perhaps it was, and perhaps that's okay. Instead of paying attention to a list of rules, I was able to experience the God's lavish generosity of flavor and human creativity. That's kind of a big deal.
But the blessing I was most grateful for on this feast day was being able to eat with someone I care about.
*Incidentally, this is probably why it's best not to use Lent to overcome a bad habit or vice; 28 days may break a habit, but taking every seventh day off probably won't help much. :)
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