Photo-free posts

I haven't been good about taking photos to document our adventures lately. Maybe I'm a little burned out on blogging or tired. Or both. Whatever the case maybe I'm going to try and get caught up in the next week.

First of all, let's talk about Lent and Easter.

Over 40 days ago, I was going to write about Ash Wednesday. Andrea wrote a heartwarming piece about her sweet experience waiting in line for ashes in southern California. In Okinawa, there was no line, but the chapel was busy.

Our usual Protestant service didn't have a Ash Wednesday service, so we attended the Catholic mass at the chapel. Traffic was a bear getting there. The service started 6 p.m. so we were both rushing around with Olivia trying to get there on time after work. We arrived on time, but the priest was late. Stuck in traffic after mass on one of the northern island bases. So we waited in a packed chapel with hungry bellies.

Once the priest got there, everything was in full swing. This was the first of many church outings where Olivia decided that she would not be seen and not heard. She must be seen. She must be heard. A bottle would not keep her quiet. A cloth book was too boring for her. And even her finger puppets were tossed to the floor, in the pews in front of us, in the pews behind us. Yes we were those parents at church. The one who continue to offer toys to their child who doesn't want any of these toys. She wants to go home and go to bed.

First before we could do that we heard a vague sermon listing the things we needed to do for Lent. 1) Don't eat red meat on Ash Wednesday, Good Friday and every Friday during Lent. I neglected to remember this rule every Friday. I even made meatballs one Friday night. I hope God forgives me.
2) Give up something for Lent. The priest said it has to be something that we truly love and that is interfering with our love for Jesus. And if we didn't know what to give up, God would tell us. And we would try to talk him out of it. God told him coffee and I said "seriously?"

At the time I was surviving on caffeine. I would drink two cups of coffee in the morning. Then around 3 p.m. I would have another coffee or Japanese apple tea to power through the drive to Olivia's daycare and the evening. Coffee was my happy place.

So I gave up coffee the next day. And it was awful. Nearly unbearable. The second day was worse. On the third day, I was thankful it was Saturday and told Benny I needed a nap if I wasn't going to drink coffee.

On Monday (less than a week into withdrawal), I declared to my co-workers that God wanted me to have coffee. In face, I believe that he created coffee for working mothers like myself. My guilty conscience told me no.

As I turned the calendar to April, I was overjoyed. The first thing I did on Easter Sunday was brewed a pot of coffee. I hadn't been this excited for Easter since I was a child. But that cup didn't taste as good as I remember. In fact, it was mediocre. But that didn't stop me from having a second cup. And a third cup.

Yes, I could live without the coffee. I proved that I could do it ... if I had to. Did I want to? Never again.