Lent

My dear friend Lynn gave me a new idea for a Lenten practice. She suggested that I try to do random acts of kindness during Lent, a way of adding something during Lent rather than taking something away (as I've often done in the past). While I realize we're already almost half way through Lent, I'm posting this as a way to hold me accountable.

I've tried to get the kids involved in this practice. At night time, Claire and I try to tell each other what we did (when we remember). We then brainstorm other things we could do.

Here's a list of some of what we've done...
-flowers to a neighbor
-holding the door open for someone in the grocery store
-buying a coffee for a college student at lemonjellos
-letting someone go ahead in a line (that was one of Claire's!)
-sending a card to someone who wasn't feeling well
-asking someone to play with you (Claire's idea)

I've been thinking a lot about this in these last few weeks, weeks of more intense dissertation writing for me and thus, less of everything else that I/we normally do.
Is it easier to show kindness to strangers? Is it easier to be random about it? Or does the randonmess encourage more of a discipline of kindness?

I've been thinking about this concept of "discipline" since reading 1000 Gifts. This book is about living a life of gratitude/thankfulness. It's more than saying thanks. It's more than being thankful at particular time. It's about living thankfully, grace-fully, with a spirit of God's goodness to us all the time.

It's hard work!

I try to write down 3 or 4 specific gifts of my day in a notebook before I go to bed. I started listing general ones (friends, kids, good weather) and then challenged myself to be as specific as possible. It has been in this specificity that I feel I'm (slowly) changing the way I see and experience things.

To be thankful for my children is one thing. But, to be thankful for the tight grasp of fingers around my neck when Jacob gives me a hug, or the smacking noise that Eli makes when he tries to imitate Jon giving me a kiss on his way out to work, or the twinkle in Claire's eyes when I get to the punchline in the funny story I'm telling her or when I see David working hard to find the tiny piece of LEGO that Jacob says he has to find right now...these are gifts that I can continue to look for and be aware of.

The specificity of gifts, something I once viewed at being thankful for "tiny" or "little" things, encourages me to be attentive, to be more present so I can notice them, enjoy them, express thanks for them.