I’m kind of a bad Lutheran.
And I was doing so well for a while there.
Sure, I can make a mean tuna fish casserole.
And not only do I know at least three jello salad recipes by heart, I only serve them in the appropriate liturgical color for whichever church season we’re in.
I’d even say I’m quite skilled at singing hymns in Norwegian. I also recognize that the green hymnal is far superior to the red one.
And, perhaps most importantly, I make sure drink to drink at least three cups of joe whenever I attend coffee hour, no matter how painfully watered down it may be.
Add to this the fact that I’ve logged upwards of 500 hours in church basements for various potlucks, wedding receptions and annual meetings, and you have yourself a Super Lutheran.
But yesterday, I messed up.
I knew it was the first day of Lent, but try as I might, I just couldn’t figure out what I wanted to give up this year. As a result, I spent Ash Wednesday indulging in my usual habits and activities.
Then, this morning, it hit me like a ton of hymnals.
I felt compelled to give up texting my husband.
I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. It’s our main form of communication during the day, so it will be something that truly is a sacrifie…yet I think some good will actually come of abandoning our text messaging for the next 39 days.
For example, I won’t be able to lose my temper and send angry, all-caps messages.
He keeps filling my venti tumbler with his devil smoothie and then sneakily trotting off to work with it in tow. How in the world am I supposed to hydrate? Does he seriously expect me to drink non-Starbucks water out of a regular cup or something?
Fortunately, it’s one of those customizable cups with a liner you can draw or write on. As soon as it’s back in my possession I’m scrawling “I love Britney Spears!” across it in permanent sharpie to ensure he doesn’t take it out in public again.
The texting hiatus will also prevent me from bothering him with annoying questions throughout the day.
I was just trying to exercise caution. I think we can all agree that Botulism is never sexy.
Now, I’ll be the very first to admit that sometimes, my texts may cross the line from asking a simple question to…um…nagging.
And sometimes they might even venture into the territory commonly known as “beating a dead horse.”
Surprise, surprise…the doctor’s appointment was never scheduled. On the bright side, I’m definitely milking our unlimited messaging plan for all it’s worth.
This Lenten resolution will save Scott some headaches while also improving my self-esteem. Not that I’ve got an issue with that or anything, but it will be kind of nice to not be rejected after putting myself out there.
So much for being romantic.
Also good for my ego? Not being reminded of my nocturnal flatulence during the middle of the day.
Don’t judge me. It happens to the best of us.
Sure, most people don’t choose to blog about it, but I’m confident that every single person reading this has had a similar problem at least once in their life. Plus, lactose intolerance is the hottest condition since gluten insensitivity. Really, I’m just setting a trend here, people.
I think the benefits outweigh the cost of not texting Scott during Lent. I mean, it’s not like I’m stretching the realm of what’s possible or anything. People used to go without texting all the time. It was called “the nineties”, remember?
Before embarking on complete and total MMS celibacy, one final text to the husband was in order. You know, to inform him of my Lutheran duty.
Clearly, Scott was raised Methodist.
And, because I buckled and actually listened to him, I am once again a bad Lutheran. Shame on me and my purple Lenten jello salad.
Looks like the only thing I’ll be giving up this year is my Starbucks cup.
Will I be struck down by an angry bolt of Lenten lightning before being reunited with my Starbucks tumbler?
BUT PERHAPS MORE IMPORTANTLY: Have you signed up for my free coffee giveaway of excitement and glamour? Hurry! You only have five days left!