Death by Beans

That's going to be the epithet on my daughters' tombstones.  All three of them.  Underneath that pithy phrase will be something along the lines of, "My mom is a cruel and heartless woman who fed me nothing but beans for forty days.  Blech."

I feel sorry for them.  I really do.  Two out of the three of them HATE beans.  And the one who doesn't hate beans doesn't eat rice.  This is going to be one long Lenten season as we choose to subsist on rice and beans for the weeks that lead up to Easter. 

Why am I doing this to them you ask?  And any mother who's ever sat over their picky eater, begging them to eat just one more bite is asking, why am I doing this to myself? 

Let me tell you a story.  Once upon a time I had a friend who traveled to Honduras on a mission trip.  He was warmly welcomed by the local community who was so dirt poor, he could barely describe their living conditions.  Nevertheless, they banded together and showed him a fantastic time.  Their times of worship, he said, were full of joy and gratitude to the God they loved, the God who provided all that they needed.  They sang and danced to the Lord, not just on Sunday like we do, but on every single night of the week, so full were their hearts.  Not only that, but they were excellent hosts to their new American friends who helped them in so many ways.  They were happy to provide the meals and served plates heaped with regional favorites: plantains, rice, avacado, and that old pantry staple, refried beans.  The only problem was, their food began to run out as the week wore on with all those extra mouths to feed.  My friend noticed that towards the end of the week the beans were thinner and thinner.  Because when they were gone, they were gone.

I thought a lot about that story after I heard it.  I thought about it when I looked in my pantry and saw it overflowing with fancy stuff like store-bought cereal, chocolate chips, packaged cookies, Nutella, and even the occassional can of refriend beans. 

I thought about it on those nights when I didn't feel like cooking and we splurged on a $10 gas station pizza.

I thought about it at dinners when my girls wrinkled up their noses at what I had prepared.  I've never made my girls be members of the clean plate club so I inevitably end up washing the food they don't like down the garbage disposal with a sigh and a wish that they would at least show a little more gratitude.

I thought about it as Lent approached and I had to consider how I should use the season to prepare my heart for Easter.  Lent is a man-made holiday.  You'll not find the word anywhere in the bible.  Even so, I find it a wonderful tool, instituted by the church, to give its people a physical way to draw close to God.  It's physical because you are depriving yourself of something.  Some people fast from alcohol, chocolate, red meat, whatever.  This season, I am fasting from normal.

Why?  Because normal equals self-reliance in my little middle-America corner of the world.  I bring the paycheck home.  I spend the money at Hy-Vee.  I have all that I  need to prepare meals for my family for a least a week or two.  Or until I get tired of cooking and want to splurge on pizza. 

But do have all that I need?  Do I really?  I don't recall a time when I have EVER danced at church because my heart was overflowing with gratitude to the God who provided everything that I needed.  And here I sit with a pantry full of food, a checking account with plenty of money, and grocery store down the street that is stocked with every type of food I could imagine and more.  Something is very, very wrong with this.

With apologies to my sweet bean-hating girls, they are coming along with me on the journey to right this wrong.  I can't make them feel that kind of gratitude to God.  I can't even make them love God.  But as a parent, I am charged with the reponsibility of putting them in the path of the divine so that He can do the work in their hearts.

And maybe by eating the same food that billions of people all over the world eat because it's ALL THEY HAVE, my girls will gain a new perpective on all that WE have.  I expect it to be difficult.  I dread day 14 or 15 when I have to face the kitchen and prepare a meal that I am sick and tired of eating.

But we will not give up, as Paul says, in 2 Corinthians 4:16!  For, "though our bodies are [being deprived], our spirits are being renewed every day."  I look foward to telling the story of our rice and beans Lent experience as the days unfold and I pray for 5 hearts changed when Easter arrives in April.