Lent and laundry

It’s that time of year again…Lent.  Once again I struggled with what to give up or add.  I find it difficult to find things to “cut out” of my daily life.  I can’t really think of a vice or something that I would go nuts over if I couldn’t have it for 40 days (except pasta and/or blogging, but let’s not get crazy).  So, I try to think of things to add that will cause suffering and reflection.  I seriously considered making myself get up before 6 a.m. every morning but let’s be real here.  I would just be setting myself up for failure.  Thursday morning after Ash Wednesday the first thing I thought to myself as I had to drag myself out of bed at 6:50 a.m. in order to fix Addison’s lunch was Thank God I didn’t go for that get up early thing. That was stupid.  My next idea was to try to find time everyday to get outside and walk or exercise by myself.  I quickly brushed that idea aside as it’s still cold outside and I hate being cold.  Whenever I see people jogging in 40 degrees and wind I wonder what the hell is wrong with them.  Plus, when would I find time to get outside and exercise?  That would mean I would have to get up early.  Nope.  My next idea was to spend 40 days looking for the beauty around me and record my findings whether it be in pictures or a journal.  When I said it out loud it sounded lame so I went back to the drawing board.

I’ve finally settled on the same thing I’ve done for the past two years, reading a daily devotional.  I’ve found it to be thought-provoking and spiritually rewarding so I figured the method tried and true.  I mentioned above that my qualifications for adding something to my life are suffering and reflection. One may wonder how spending time each day in devotion can cause suffering.  I’m here to report that finding 30 quiet minutes to myself is a difficult if not impossible task.  Can I get an “amen sister” from my stay-at-home moms?  My 3-year-old doesn’t nap so I have to learn to tune out the sounds of Dora and Max & Ruby (where are their parents anyway?  I’m getting worried) if I want to spend any time in “quiet” reflection.  The temptation to hide oneself in the bathroom in order to get away from it all is great.  I wonder if Jesus felt this way.  Desert, toilet closet, little hands rattling the locked door, Satan tempting Jesus to prove himself.  I’m seeing similarities here.  It’s all in how you look at it.

I’m toying with the idea of making myself put away the clean laundry the same day it has been washed.  This may seem trivial to some but for me it could prove to be a real challenge.  I don’t know what it is about folding and putting away clean laundry but I. Hate. It.  And there is so much of it.  There are only 4 of us but why do we create so much damn laundry?  I keep wondering what women did before the convenience of a washer and dryer.  What did Caroline Ingalls do with those dusty shirts and layers of skirts?  What did Marmee and her little women do with all those petticoats and tight bodices?  I’ll tell you what they did.  They stunk.  They had smaller wardrobes and wore their clothes over and over and over before they had to wash it.  I guess they were used to the smell.  It’s something to consider.

What are you doing for Lent?  Adding or subtracting?

7 Responses

  1. As for me, I’m cutting my consumption of Coke Zero significantly. First glass in the morning is not caffeine, it’s water. I only allow Coke Zero at work. From the time I get home and until I’m in bed, it’s ice water. Sometimes I think it’s more about the ice! That’s a big sacrifice for me. Because of medications, yes, I typically do have something to drink with me; otherwise, it’s cotton-mouth city. You asked!

  2. I couldn’t give up blogging for forty days!

  3. I never ever give up things… I can’t!! I usually just focus on God more in a more intentional way… Just like you!!! :) And btw- I. HATE. LAUNDRY. TOO.

  4. […] true daily devotional.  I even got the hair brained idea that I would fold and put away the laundry the same day it had been washed.  I failed miserably.  I didn’t even make it two […]

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