I am now in my third year of practicing Lent. I grew up in an evangelical church in which Lent was not observed, but three years ago some friends and I decided to give it a try. I gave up my car that first year. You can read about it here, if you so desire.
Last year, I didn't "give up" anything, per se. I decided, instead, to add on a spiritual practice I'd neglected for years: prayer journaling. Like the year before, I found that I truly enjoyed the discipline. I like how Lent slows down the approach to Good Friday and gives Easter the "weight" it deserves in my mind. Spending 40 days in preparation for anything makes one take notice of it, for sure!
Just a week ago, I was looking at my calendar and realizing it was about time to choose this year's Lenten fast. That same day I received an email from Living Water International, a really, really cool nonprofit that drills water wells and conducts hygiene training to show God's love to impoverished people around the world. My friends Sarah, Dave, Ali and I went on a Living Water trip to El Salvador in June 2009. You can read about that here.
Anyway, the email included a neat video (go here to see it) and an encouragement on what to give up for Lent 2011: all beverages BUT water. Yep, that's right. No soda, no juice, no coffee, no tea. No $5 triple-shot soy lattes.
For 40 days.
The point: To appreciate the fact that you have clean water to drink and to save the money you would spend on all those other beverages and donate it to Living Water so more people can drink clean water. Also, as is customary with Lent, the longing for what you are fasting from is supposed to prompt prayer. Being the coffee addict that I am, I imagine I will be praying A LOT this season. I'm trusting that prayers can build a water well...
You heard it right, friends. I am including coffee in this beverage fast. I am committed to drinking only water from March 9 through April 23. And I imagine, as I celebrate the resurrection of my LORD on April 24, I will begin that day with the BEST French press of coffee ever poured!
Now, how about you? Will you consider joining me in this endeavor, this H20 project--even if only for 10, 15, or 20 days? Watch the video. And trust me when I say Living Water is a worthy cause. The money from 40 days of not drinking all the beverages we typically do could provide several people with clean water for their lifetime.
Wow, huh?
Think about it.
Pray about it.
And, if you think of it, pray for me, too. I can hardly write without coffee at my side. I relish a cup of afternoon hot cocoa. I relax with mint tea at night. But, I really want to do this. I am looking forward to how God will use this year of Lent in my life and the lives of the thirsty around the world.
I'll leave you with just a small sampling of photos of me drinking various beverages. Hopefully I'll be adding some pics of me drinking water to the collection...
There will be no coffee toasting to one of the coolest murals in Montana.
No drinking hot cocoa from a bowl. (This is in Alaska. We were backpacking and trying to pack as little as possible!)
No coconut juice straight from the coconut.
No cubicle desk that looks like this...
And did I mention no coffee while I write?!
2.22.2011
2.09.2011
Passports make me happy
At the beginning of 2011, I made one nerve-wracking trip to the post office. I bought a special envelope, checked to make sure it was tightly sealed about 3-hundred times, and handed it over with trembling hand to be weighed and shipped away. Its contents?
My passport.
My beloved blue book with arrival stamps and visas from exotic locales like El Salvador, Laos and Indonesia.
My proof that I've worked my butt off to travel--and never, ever, ever regretted spending any of those pennies.
I say the word "Travel" and my thumbs go numb with giddy excitement. I look at my suitcase, which is never stored out of sight, and grin a silly grin while imagining what I'd fill it with for whatever dream adventure is flitting through my mind that day. I hear an airplane taking off and can almost feel that whoosh that rushes up my throat whenever I'm the one pushing my nose against the window, watching cars, houses, farms, and mountains shrink into a dot on a map.
Don't get me wrong. I've been fortunate enough to love every dot on a map that I've called home. Family, friends, jobs, and outdoor opportunities are always a blessing. But I do love to get away. I do love to immerse myself somewhere else. The love of God, family and friends not included, travel may be the thing in this world that makes me happiest. (Coffee and writing are a close second and third.)
And that is why sending my old passport away so I could apply for a new one was so nerve-wracking. What if it got lost? What if my application got mired in the bog of government? For how long would I not be able to leave the country? What if I found a plane ticket for a January weekend in Greece for $90 and couldn't go? Anxious what-ifs filled my mind.
I bought delivery confirmation for my package and checked it every day. I asked my mom if I'd gotten anything in the mail--every day. I looked at my suitcase and worried I may not get to fill it anytime soon--but not every day.
And then it came.
My old passport had two holes punched in the cover but all its colorful pages inked in Spanish, British and Thai were intact.
My new passport was fat with empty pages just waiting to be filled.
Just waiting for me to fill them.
And, dear passport, I write today to assure you I am happy to oblige.
My passport.
My beloved blue book with arrival stamps and visas from exotic locales like El Salvador, Laos and Indonesia.
My proof that I've worked my butt off to travel--and never, ever, ever regretted spending any of those pennies.
I say the word "Travel" and my thumbs go numb with giddy excitement. I look at my suitcase, which is never stored out of sight, and grin a silly grin while imagining what I'd fill it with for whatever dream adventure is flitting through my mind that day. I hear an airplane taking off and can almost feel that whoosh that rushes up my throat whenever I'm the one pushing my nose against the window, watching cars, houses, farms, and mountains shrink into a dot on a map.
Don't get me wrong. I've been fortunate enough to love every dot on a map that I've called home. Family, friends, jobs, and outdoor opportunities are always a blessing. But I do love to get away. I do love to immerse myself somewhere else. The love of God, family and friends not included, travel may be the thing in this world that makes me happiest. (Coffee and writing are a close second and third.)
And that is why sending my old passport away so I could apply for a new one was so nerve-wracking. What if it got lost? What if my application got mired in the bog of government? For how long would I not be able to leave the country? What if I found a plane ticket for a January weekend in Greece for $90 and couldn't go? Anxious what-ifs filled my mind.
I bought delivery confirmation for my package and checked it every day. I asked my mom if I'd gotten anything in the mail--every day. I looked at my suitcase and worried I may not get to fill it anytime soon--but not every day.
And then it came.
My old passport had two holes punched in the cover but all its colorful pages inked in Spanish, British and Thai were intact.
My new passport was fat with empty pages just waiting to be filled.
Just waiting for me to fill them.
And, dear passport, I write today to assure you I am happy to oblige.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)