Sacrifice.

Ohhhhh, so sad. This is my beloved KitchenAid, wondering why I haven't used it for the last two weeks.

For Lent this year, I had no idea what to give up. I've basically cut pop out of my diet, so that wasn't much of a sacrifice. I'm not allowed to give up work (something about it not being a sacrifice and me needing a paycheck or something). Tim suggested coffee, but I really have to wonder what kind of pain he wants me to endure - I need caffeine of some kind, and I need my morning cup o' joe. TV is out of the question because watching TV is usually the most time TIm and I get to spend together on the days we work. So Tim mentioned baking and I thought about it.

*sniff*

I've given up baking for Lent. There, I said it.

Baking is not just something I do to create sugary goodness. It is a primary stress reliever and a way of bringing joy to my life on a rough, chaotic day. This is forcing me to figure out ways to cope when I would usually turn to Betty Crocker and her trusty frosting friend Duncan Hines. I've gone to the grocery store during the last two weeks without "vegetable oil" or "chocolate chips" on my list. The cookie mix I've kept in the cupboard for a last-minute birthday treat for someone at work? It'll stay there until Lent is over.

When Tim told his coworkers of my resolution, they wanted to know why they were being punished. (They are often the recipients of my "just because" baked goods.) But really, this is a Lenten sacrifice that I am constantly aware of. I always figured I was better off without pop, so in that way, I was doing my body a favor during Lent. Or candy, but I really don't eat all that much candy now, and it wouldn't have been much of a sacrifice. But every time I look at sugar on the shelf or notice that I've got cake mixes that are crying out for attention, I think about what I've given up - a comfort device - and really think about the meaning of Lent. I know it sounds corny, but this is one of the most significant personal Lenten observances I can remember.