Easter is coming soon, and my church will receive a big bag of cash by then!
It all started with Lent. I am a Southern Methodist girl who wasn’t raised believing it was a law that I must fast or make a sacrifice for Lent. However, somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought it was a good idea.
I gave up dark chocolate one year, and it nearly killed me! By the time Lent ended, most of the dark chocolate bunnies in the South were consumed by the out-of-control mothers stealing them from the kids’ Easter baskets.
One year, my daughter, who moved to Seattle to be close to Starbucks, decided to give up her beloved java for Lent. After searing headaches, grumpiness, and falling asleep during business meetings, she finally made it to Easter. And decided never to forsake coffee’s dark, soothing magic again.
In my lifetime of loving the Lord, I have forfeited sugar, fried foods, and a host of other goodies for Lent, but none has been as brutal as this one. Nope, none, not even dark chocolate.
I live with an Italian heritage New Orleans husband who would never, and I do mean ever, give up food for Lent or anybody. He couldn’t physically handle such a feat, so I didn’t suggest it. If I had told him he would need to sacrifice his beloved pizza for Lent, he would have driven his Italian car to the hills, never to be heard from again. Even God knew it was asking way too much.
Finally, I came up with an ingenious plan. Since both of us have a terrible habit of saying some non-printable words, often out of frustration with our computers, politicians, bad drivers, or cell phones, we would vow not to use them for forty days and beyond. If we should slip and say one of those #!!X@!! words, we would throw money in the jar on our kitchen counter.
Indeed, this would be pleasing to God. Hopefully, it would not be as difficult as giving up dark Easter bunnies and not as death-defying for David as giving up pizza.
Unfortunately, today we have no money to buy an Easter Bunny or a pizza! The jar has it all now, and one can hear the faint sound of the Lord’s laughter with each rustling of the dollar as it is stuffed in His pocket.
I laugh at the few funny tales surrounding those non-printable, blankety, blank-blank words!
One is the story of my three-year-old brother, whose beloved grandfather had just finished building him a sandbox in 1944.
My grandfather was tall, not just in stature but also in Godliness. He taught Sunday school and was a Baptist Deacon. His daughter, my mother, never said a foul word in her life. Her go-to phrase was “fiddlesticks” when she would get frustrated. I never knew what fiddling with sticks had to do with anything, but it suppressed her frustration and kept her daddy from putting the dreaded soap in her mouth.
Granddaddy watched John try to fill his pail with sand and dump it just right. When John couldn’t get the sand to form what he envisioned, he softly said, “Well, da…!”
“What did you say, John?” his grandfather asked in disbelief.
The three-year-old then replied a tiny bit louder, “Da..!
The formidable deacon repeated while resting his hands on his hips, ”
“John, what are you saying!?”
“Granddaddy, can’t you hear? I said, WELL DA..!” He yelled loudly.
“Where did you hear such a word, son?” The deacon asked as his anger rose.
“From my daddy!” the three-year-old honestly and proudly shouted.
And just like that, the last time John saw his new sandbox for many days was when his granddad hauled him into the house to wash his mouth out with the Ivory bar.
And, just like that, the deacon became a bonified preacher as he gave my daddy a tongue lashing my father recalled for the next fifty years.
Hopefully, by the time these forty days have passed, the foul words will be forever gone, and Granddaddy can rest in peace as I learn to fiddle my sticks and no longer steal chocolate bunnies.
The whole idea of Lent is to give up, give in, and grow for the love of the Lord. He endured 40 days in a barren wilderness, was tempted by Satan, and survived only to return to give His life for us.
Giving up chocolate bunnies, pizza, coffee, expletives, and a jar full of money is the least we can do for Him.
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Lynn Walker Gendusa is a Georgia author and columnist whose latest book, “Southern Comfort: Stories of Family, Friendship, Fiery Trials, and Faith,” is available on Amazon. For more of Lynn’s inspirational stories, click here.
