I've been trying to write a post about Lent, but I keep tripping over my words. Instead, I thought I'd share some bits and pieces that've had me thinking.
"If you're working 50 hours a week, and sleeping eight hours a night (56 per week) that leaves 62 hours for other things. That's plenty of hours for a family life and a personal life -- exercising, volunteering, sitting on the porch with the paper, plus watching TV if you like."
Sojourners article on doing nothing for Lent:
“One of the things the monks used to say: ‘Stay in your cell. The cell will teach you everything,’ Peterson told us in a conversation about simplicity: 'I took that personally in terms of my congregation. ‘Stay in your congregation. Your congregation will teach you everything.’ I was always thinking about projects, but I kept coming back to that until I was content to be just with these people. Receive from them. Not always thinking up ways to make their lives more interesting, or godly, or whatever.'”
And a quote attributed to Thoreau:
"I make myself rich by making my wants few."
How difficult it is to make my wants few.
I drive myself a tiny bit crazy, wanting experiences, relationships, successes, character traits, and recognitions that simply aren't compatible with one another. Often I dream about living and working on a quiet farm. But I remember our time in Guatemala when the day moved so slowly, from chore to chore, rainstorm to rainstorm, and I went a tiny bit crazy then, too.
Would I be satisfied milking cows every morning? Or simply working from home in a rural area? (Because let's be honest. I'm never going to be a farmer.)
For Lent, I gave up blogs. That hasn't been going well. So I'm giving up giving up blogs. Instead, I'm trying to calm down.
It's so hard to calm down.
Be still, my soul.
Psalm 131
A song of ascents. Of David.
My heart is not proud, LORD,
my eyes are not haughty;
I do not concern myself with great matters
or things too wonderful for me.
But I have calmed and quieted myself,
I am like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child I am content.
Israel, put your hope in the LORD
both now and forevermore.
