I have been a church attender for the vast majority of my life, but none of my churches have ever participated in Lent as a congregation. I'm pretty sure that I'd never even heard the term "liturgical calendar" until this past year. And it wasn't until after I started the fast that I realized it was supposed to last for forty days and not a month like I had originally presumed. (Is it socially acceptable to bless one's own heart? Asking for a friend.)
Nevertheless, as I did more personal study into the concepts behind feasting and fasting seasons, I felt a pulling on my heart that I should use this particular season in my own life to recalibrate and recenter--and I knew the exact instrument I was supposed to remeasure.
My relationship with alcohol has been a seemingly innocent one by most accounts. Of course there were younger versions of myself that probably needed full-out interventions, but as I matured the rest of my practices changed with me. I was fairly certain that I had a pretty good handle on this particular subject.
So I have to tell you, I was really confused by how bothered I had become about my beverages.
For several months prior I had been reading articles about people who had quit drinking and talked to people who had chosen to abstain. I respected their decisions. I supported their efforts. I was *possibly* a little bit shallow as I wondered what cutting out alcohol might do for one's abdominal muscles, or a little bit cheap as I wondered what cutting out alcohol might do for one's pocket book. But I didn't choose to follow them, because I didn't quite struggle like they did.
But what I did struggle with was worrying how I'd been coming across lately: as Liz, the jolly lush.
(And to be fair to those people, I probably wasn't helping myself.)
Two of these three examples were school-related. Seriously, y'all. Bless my heart. (I've made it a thing now.)
It wasn't just the images I was putting out there, but images that people--out of nothing but their good intentions--were sending to me. These funny pictures and videos and memes all shared a common theme: the drink. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy the fact that people were thinking of me and sharing with me and laughing with me, but I did worry that somehow I had led people to believe that I took pleasure and amusement in just that one thing; or worse, I worried that I was connecting to people in just that one way.
For a person who "wasn't struggling," I had a weightiness when I considered these things that I just didn't like. So for the next 30--then 40 days, I killed the beast at the source.
You want to know a lesson I learned right out the gate?
What we think is "the beast" is hardly ever the source.
Alcohol was not the bad thing. The bad thing was all the "tools" I had made alcohol become.
It was my tool for helping me unwind.
Most every night my husband and I have a drink with a show. Every time the t.v. comes on, the drink goes in hand. When my husband would turn on our show and I would sit next to him, my desire for a beverage was triggered. I realized that the drink came with a reward center in my brain that said "Yes Liz. Good job today. Snuggle up next to your honey and relax." More than a habit, my evening drink had become a signal to myself that it was time to rest.
It was a tool for helping me treat my ailments.
I have struggled with anxiety. A glass of red can help with that. My family has struggled with high blood pressure. A glass of red can help with that. I have a uterus. A glass of red wine can help with that.
It was a tool for helping me deal with difficult things.
I also blame this on the tricky reward center. Because alcohol is a depressant, and it helps with blood flow, and it relaxes your muscles, it does help you calm down. When the kids are fighting all day and my stressed shoulders are up by my ears, a drink can help bring me back down. When my two-year-old son was in a terrifying accident, my husband had to give me a tequila shot to help me stop shaking from the shock. Or sometimes, as the picture above illustrates, things break and having a drink makes it feel a little less like work.
It was a tool for helping me celebrate.
The first day of Lent this year began on Valentine's Day. This proved to be difficult, because I wanted to celebrate my sweetheart and somehow iced tea just didn't send the message I wanted. My family came down during the first week of Lent to celebrate my birthday, and I burned my mouth on all of the extra citrus wedges I was putting in my drinks to make them feel more "fancy." We received some good news as a family during this Lenten season, and I rang in the news with sparkling cider and felt twelve. I went to concerts and sports events and got a soda and was sad.
Which led me to this humbling realization:
Alcohol was my treat of choice.
I don't have much of a sweet tooth at all, but I ate SO MANY desserts during these past 40 days. I ate things I would typically never choose just because I was searching for something that felt right for the occasion...a substitute... Anything to help "fill the gap" so to speak.
I had a fair idea before I started this journey of what my triggers might be. I bought hot tea for nighttime t.v. viewing, Tylenol for my uterus, got a massage for my stress, bought citrus and sparkling ciders for fun news, bought a ridiculous amount of treats for no reason...but those things didn't work for long, because they were just different choices--not better ones.
For rest:
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. (Matthew 11:28)
For health:
My son, be attentive to my words; incline your ear to my sayings. Let them not escape from your sight; keep them within your heart. For they are life to those who find them, and healing to all their flesh. (Proverbs 4:20-22)
To de-stress:
Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you. (1 Peter 5:7)
For celebrating:
So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. (1 Corinthians 10:31)
To treat:
I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. (Genesis 15:1)
All of the other choices I was making to fill my gap during the Lenten season had left me thirsty. But now I also knew that filling up so many spaces with alcohol had left me longing too--it was cheap wine when I knew what the good stuff tasted like. This is not to say that one drink is evil and one is not. It is to say that there is a thing that's better--and it should always be my source.
The season is over, but the choices are still going to be there every day. Our hearts can't stay empty. Something is going to fill the gap.
What are you really thirsty for?
Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. (Isaiah 55:1)
Cheers!
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