Two more days and I can drink again. Not that I couldn’t drink before. Actually I’ve had several drinks throughout Lent this year. First time in a long time for that. Don’t know why in previous years it didn’t bother me when people asked, “Why do you give something up?” And I didn’t have a definite answer. “It’s sort of a ritual.” “I always learn something.” “Er…”
But this year the steam just went out of me. Maybe laziness. Maybe because no one else I know is doing it. Maybe my faith is changing. I did keep my fast but the rules were more convoluted. If it feels in the slightest bit socially awkward not to drink, go for it. So I wasn’t allowed one at home, after a hard day, hanging out with Dave. But if we were out for dinner with friends, bring on the gin and tonics. Not that they would have cared, but clearly I did.
So this year I guess I didn’t give up booze, I gave up staunchness of purpose. I guess God wanted me to learn something about presumed expectations. He’s huge on that.