I Already Knew I Liked Wine
Someone posts a photo of her beloved pet, and I weep.
Someone posts a photo of a great flash mob, and I weep.
Someone posts a quote, and I weep.
I believe I’m ready for Lent to be over.
I don’t think I’m put together for an extended period of intentional deprivation. I’m MUCH better at deprivation over which I have no control. Intentional deprivation—a lecture to yourself to not be happy—makes me (Surprise!) not happy.
I am not an adherent of the “suffering brings us closer to God” tribe.
I am an adherent of the “God put all this joy on the earth for a reason” tribe.
I have learned a great deal from my discipline of not critiquing people (I’m sure I’ll write about it at some point when I’ve got the energy). I’ve learned one big lesson from the vegan days—animals keep me alive—but I realized that a week and a half into Lent. I have learned nothing from the abstaining from alcohol because I already knew I liked wine.
Call me spiritually immature. Call me lazy. Call me a whiner. Call me a failed Episcopalian. I can agree with you on some of those. Just, at this stage in the liturgical calendar, don’t call on me to defend Lent.
here’s to creative synthesis . . .