Those post Lenten considerations

It's springtime.  Here in Oregon, we have blooming trees, daffodils coming up in the strangest places, and two straight sunny days with temperatures over 50 degrees.  But spring also hails the end of Lent and the beginning of new life spiritually (in a symbolic sort of way).  We have prayed.  We have abstained (not to be confused with fasting).  Some of us have actually fasted.  And we have all taken a moment to reflect on the magnitude of what the Lord Jesus did for us. 

I had one such moment at the grocery store.  It involved chocolate.

Before you say it, it's not what you think.  I did not give up chocolate for Lent.  My lenten goal was to improve my powers of concentration and meditation.  Ergo, I gave up television and movies in the evening (and the rest of the day too).  Seth is trying to learn physical discipline.  He officially gave up chocolate.  But I unofficially gave up chocolate because keeping chocolate in the house while someone is abstaining from it is like eating chocolate in front of someone who's abstaining from it (or allergic).  It's just mean.

As a reward for completing his goal, I offered to bake Seth a chocolate cake.  I was at the store buying ingredients, and I realized that I could buy chocolate again.  And chocolate was everywhere:  chocolate rabbits, chocolate cookie "bunny houses,"  chocolate in pastel wrappers, chocolate in bulk bins.  It seemed like every aisle  I turned into had something chocolate at the end of it.  And it was all available!  The tempation to run down the aisles like a maniac, grabbing chocolate and throwing it into my cart seized me briefly. 

I resisted it. 

However, this thought seized me as I steered sedately toward the healthy, daily necessity dairy section.  We give up things in Lent to remind us that we can give up things in this life to see rewards in the life to come.  We also do it to remind ourselves that our inner appetites are stronger than we think they are, and we are not as strong as we like to imagine ourselves.  But we also learn that we can master small urges and temptations with diligent application.  The pursuit of righteousness under the administration of God's grace does yield results, and if you resist the devil, he does flee from you.  And someday, thanks to the infusion of Christ's life into us, all of our innocent desires will no longer be tangled up with dangerous conclusions, and everything will occupy it's proper place as we stand and praise our Lord for all the many things He has done for us.

Including making chocolate.

A housework reflection

We all have a chore that we abominate above all things.  My mother-in-law loved the kitchen but hated the laundry.  I hate cleaning bathrooms.  I'm not sure why.  It's not time consuming.  I can knock out a good bathroom in 30 minutes flat.  Maybe it's because cleaning bathrooms was my chore when I was little.  Maybe it's because we have two of them now.  My working theory is that there are so many tiny things that need to be moved before I can get down to the real cleaning. 

So today being Thursday, it's my housework day.  Somehow my weekly schedule unites against spreading the housework out to the days when Seth is home or the days when we have preschool and errands to run, so that means that it all piles up on Thursday (with a fair helping for Saturday morning.  I miss my little house.  I could clean that thing in a afternoon.) .  I had a substantial list accumulated.  On top of the second batch of laundry and a batch of cookies, I had the bathrooms to clean, the carpets on three levels to vacuum,  and two nasty smells to track down.  It was going to be a full day. 

The day was also shaping up to be one of those days when nothing got done smoothly.  We found and dealt with one of the smells in Boogaloo's room.  (It was in the carpet.  So we worked carpet cleaner into the carpet with dust mops.  To quote the Boogaloo, "We're having fun.  This is awesome." I want to adopt her attitude. )  I wanted to cross Boo's room off the list, but she had an accident last night, and her sheets weren't dry, so we couldn't make the bed or vacuum the floor.  Okay, so we put that room on hold. I hunted down the other smell in the crisper drawer (because ginger root goes bad if you don't use it).   The fridge got a total cleaning, but the bedroom still wasn't dry.  Dagnabbit. 

Now, this would be the perfect time to start cleaning one of the bathrooms, right?  30 minutes.  Done. 

No, I came downstairs and debated whether it was time to make cookies or not.  The butter wasn't thawed, so I emptied the dishwasher.  Then Boo and I looked at baby sea turtles online.  Part of me said, "Head upstairs.  Clean a bathroom."  My conscious mind replied, "Maybe I'll vacuum now."  So I vacuumed Boogaloo's room before it was dry, got the hallway and the two staircases, and started on the main level.  Then it hit me.  I didn't want to vacuum either.  The dog wanted a walk.  The Boo wanted lunch an hour early (She must be growing again.).  The dining room was still dirty. 

I sat down at my computer and typed out a little rant about housework.  A little of the steam whistled out of my brain.  I feel better now.  I'll get up and take the dog for a walk.  Then I'll feed the Boo and take out the trash.  And then maybe, just maybe, I'll talk myself into cleaning the bathrooms.