We are a month into Lent now, and since about the first week, my pledge to give up sugar, and by extension alcohol, has been pretty easy. There was one evening when I had a friend for dinner and a movie when I really would like to have joined in a glass of wine with dinner and some chocolate truffle cake afterwards, but once I was in the rhythm of coming home and fixing my unsweetened iced tea, I just haven't thought about it much.
That was until yesterday. Yesterday I spent a day in intense design work with several colleagues from my organization, assembled from all over the country. By the end if the day, we were brain-weary, hungry, and thirsty. After we dropped our computers and other work things at our hotel, we piled into two cars and headed down to the port for dinner and libation.
When we arrived, a pulsating band played old rock and roll to a spring break crowd. Most of our group headed directly to the bar while one went to get us on the waiting list for a table. More than any time since the start of Lent, I wanted to join my colleagues in a celebratory drink , recognizing our long day and hard work. Instead, I joined a smaller group in search of a restaurant that could accommodate our large party in less than two hours.
When we were all seated, another round was purchased. I was tempted, but ordered iced tea, along with two other teatotalers. But when the waitress delivered the drinks, my resolve once again wavered. I took a deep breath, and just as I was most tempted, I heard a "still small voice" within me say, "It's not supposed to be easy."
Of course, it's not supposed to be easy; if it was easy, I probably gave up the wrong thing. So I enjoyed my iced tea and the pleasure of being in integrity with my word.
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