This morning my stomach is growling. I am purposely skipping breakfast, because Dean has forgotten to ask for it and I think a bit of a morning fast will be good for him. He overate last night, some of the wrong foods too, by the way, so maybe his body isn't telling him he's hungry this morning. Either that or his short-term memory mind is working to his benefit. In any event, I haven't offered to fix him anything or asked what he'd like for breakfast, so it looks like we BOTH may be fasting.
And why do I have to fast with him, you wonder? Well, if he sees or hears me eating, his fast will be off. The sight and sound of food speaks louder than his body growls, totally overruling even his brain's desire for food. (Don't have to worry about smell--he lost that sense when he had the brain injury.)
It's a sacrifice for me to refrain from eating. I'm counting the minutes when I can sneak in the kitchen and get a bite to eat. I'm quite a breakfast person, so this IS rather hard. But I will do it for my man. He's worth it.
I'm so glad I was deemed worth it to God. So worth it that He gave the supreme sacrifice, His very life, for MY benefit. No sacrifice can compare with that. That is one thing I don't dare forget. And the sacrifices that come with caregiving remind me of it daily.
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