Lenten Challenge, Day 29: Water

At work, we have machines placed sporadically around the Hallmark complex that dispense ice and water. They're like the ones most of us have in our refrigerator doors at home, only much larger. There's one exactly 40 steps from my desk (I counted) that was under repair until just recently.

I think my particular machine was probably only out of service a month or so, but it felt like an eternity that I had to walk to a whole other floor just to fill up my water cup. I hope you can hear the ridiculousness in those words, because at the time, I sure could not.

I bitched, I moaned, complained about how faaarrr I had to waaalllkkk to go get water. There were even days I got a little dehydrated because my woe-is-me attitude prevented me from walking aaalll the waaayyy down a flight of stairs and back. To sum it up, I was being an asshole, but didn't realize it until I started typing a tweet to complain. A tweet that would have carried the hashtag #FirstWorldProbz. A tweet that I am so very glad I never sent out.

I needed a little perspective, and that hashtag suddenly snapped me out of whatever ridiculous complaints my brain had been swimming in, and plopped me directly into the reality of the situation. The reality is that there are women all over the world who walk miles to collect water for their entire families. And a lot of the time, that water isn't completely safe to drink.

So now every time I fill up my pretty pink water cup, I'm reminded just how blessed I am to walk only 40 steps for water. Water that's clean, and safe, and free.

I know I already mentioned them in another post last week, but I think the organization Water.org is worth mentioning again. They're based in Kansas City, and the work they do provides clean water and sanitation for the millions of people without access to it. Check them out to see how you can get involved.

Lenten Challenge, Day 28: Silence

Silence.

When it's truly achieved, it's such a place of tranquil stillness, isn't it? I wrote about hearing silence and being at peace in a previous post, and seriously considered skipping today's word, but I wanted to challenge myself to write about it from a different perspective.

What happens when silence isn't calm and peaceful and reassuring? What happens when silence is wrong?

When children are orphaned, abused or neglected.

When entire nations of people go hungry.

When kids commit suicide because they were bullied.

When more people are slaves today than any other time in history.

When injustice rears its ugly head, silence is unforgivable. I should be screaming with rage at the things listed above. Sometimes, I do. But most of the time? It's hard to break through the noise and distraction of my everyday routine. It's hard to think I can really make an impact on some of the world's biggest problems.

But I can provide some much-needed love to a small group of orphans in Russia. I can sort canned goods at my local food bank, teach my kids to stand up to bullies and donate to organizations that work to stop sex trafficking.

As Edward Everett Hale would have put it, "I cannot do everything, but I can still do something."

Lenten Challenge, Day 27: Happy

"If you find a job you love, you'll never work a day in your life." My dad said that to me a lot growing up, as did a number of wise parents, I'm sure. Because work doesn't feel like "work" when you love what you do, right?

Fast forward several years, and I have this sign sitting in my cube at work. It's a constant reminder to me that even on shitty days, I can choose to love my job. I can choose to be happy with what I have. Because what I have is pretty damn awesome!

That's just the thing about happiness. When we wake up every morning, we make a choice whether to be happy or not. When we focus on the negative, or dwell in a glass-half-empty attitude, we're choosing to be unhappy. We're missing out on the good.

I don't want to sound like a Pollyanna in this post, because I know life can be just plain awful sometimes, and the last thing anyone needs is someone telling them to "look on the bright side." Because sometimes the bright side is so dim it's almost non-existent. I know that. I'm guilty of that.

But I do believe there is good in everything. We may not always be able to see it or understand it, but it's there. Some days, we have to look for it a little harder (or a lot harder) than others.

And you know what? On the days I choose happiness, happiness finds me. So today...I choose happy.

Lenten Challenge, Day 26: Ate

I once ate a pork sandwich that looked exactly like a cuban cigar, down to the edible label, and the ashtray it was served in.

Not long after Gavin turned one, my mom and I took a weekend trip to Chicago and ate at the fabulous Moto Restaurant, where everything we ate was an oddity of some kind. Besides the cigar, we ate our menus (I promise...they were edible), a vegetarian dish that looked like sushi, and a dessert that looked like mud. It was an experience like none either of us had ever had, or will likely have again. And it was awesome.

But the best part wasn't the strangely delicious food. It was the experience itself. And that we got to experience it together.

But isn't that what it's all about, anyway? Think of the last time you had a girl's night out, or went to dinner on a date with your spouse. Even if the food was the most delicious thing you'd ever tasted, the memories from that experience aren't really about the food are they? They're about the people, and the conversation, and the relationships that form around the table.

A great friend once got me the print below (you can buy it at this Web site), and I love it, because it sums up what's supposed to happen around a table together.

When we share a meal together, it builds community, it builds relationships, it builds love. And that, my friends, is what life is all about.

Lenten Challenge, Day 25: Faithful

"God hasn't called me to be successful. He's called me to be faithful." --Mother Teresa

It's hard not to think of Mother Teresa when the word "faithful" comes up, isn't it? She was the first person who popped in my mind when I heard today's word, and when I ran across the quote above, it seemed so very fitting with some of the themes that have been coming up in my writing again and again during this Lenten journey.

Success does not equal faithfulness.

All we're asked to do is be faithful. It doesn't matter how many times we screw up, or make mistakes, even colossal ones. What matters is that we stick with it. That we're ardent in trying. That we believe. What matters is that we're faithful.

Whew! I don't know about you, but that takes a huge load off this control-freak's shoulders. I try too hard most of the time to get things juuusst right. In my marriage, in my career, in my friendships, in parenting. But I don't have to be the ideal wife, employee, friend, parent. I just have to be genuine in my faithfulness in those things.

The same is true with faith. I'm gonna screw up. I'm gonna screw up a LOT. But that's not what God cares about. We're not called to be perfect, and don't ever let any Christian tell you otherwise. They're delusional if they really believe that. We don't have to get it right all the time. We don't have to be perfect.

Because God doesn't work on technicalities. God works on love.

Lenten Challenge, Day 24: Find

You know what I've found? Sometimes the best things in life are the ones that "find" us. When we're so busy searching for perfection, we sometimes miss out on the moments and things and people who are right in front of us.

So often, I get so busy making plans, mapping everything out, making sure everything is scheduled, that I forget to make sure I'm actually living the life I'm planning for. And who says you can map out the perfect life, anyway? Well, you can, I guess, but it sure as hell isn't likely to work out that way.

It's taken me a long time to let go of some of that control and just let life happen to me. And by "let go," I mean, "only holding by a thread," instead of clutching with a death grip. I think it's been my boys who have helped me do that the most. Because every parent knows that with children, things rarely go as planned.

You take them for a family photo shoot, and one is a little fussy. I may not get the smiling shot I planned for, but there are sure to be some great candids of me loving on them. It takes two hours to get home from work because of a snowstorm? I may not have time to make that new recipe I'd planned on trying, but the ease of a frozen pizza gives me more play time with the boys before bed.

May you let life happen to you today, so those little moments can find you. Because those little moments? They're the big ones.

Lenten Challenge, Day 23: No

Saying we have a big family is a gross understatement.

My boys have 8 grandparents, 11 great-grandparents, 15 aunts and uncles, a hoard of great aunts and uncles, a bigger hoard of cousins, etc., etc., etc. And that's not counting the friends we count as family. It's why our holidays are crazy, why simple "family-only" birthday celebrations turn into a full house of people.

I'm not complaining here. I know how blessed we are, how blessed my boys are to have SO many people who love them whole-heartedly. I can't imagine our lives any other way. But having that much family also means a lot of time on our calendar, and over the years, I have finally learned it's okay to say "no" to the occasional family or friend invitation.

When our calendars are getting a little full, Ryan and I schedule in a "Day of Nothing." And when I say "schedule in," I mean we actually put it on our calendar, so if we get an invite, we can look on the calendar and say, "Sorry, we're booked." Before kids, a day of nothing meant sleeping in and staying in our jammies all day watching movies. It looks pretty much the same now, minus the sleeping-in part, plus the occasional "we have to get these stir-crazy boys out of the house" excursion. A day of nothing helps us pause, regroup, and find some level of sanity again amidst our busy schedules.

Saying "no" doesn't mean you don't want to spend time with those people, it just means you need some time for yourself. And time for yourself is important. Saying "no" is important.

When can you say "no" and have your next "Day of Nothing"?

Some recent "Day of Nothing" snuggles.