My Lenten Sacrifice

I love sweet tea. It's not a friendly handshake and hugs kind of love. It's much more serious. I dream of the amber nectar. Visions of simple syrup, Lipton tea bags, ice, tall glasses, and lemons dance through my head--night and day--through summer's heat and winter's chills. I drink tea for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Yes, I just admitted it; I occassionally drink sweet tea with breakfast. Tea with my eggs and toast! It's an addiction. A drug. Oh how I panic when a waiter mumbles the excruciating phrase, "Sorry sir, we only have unsweetened." What! You only have unsweetened!? You simply cannot exist as a legitimate restaurant in the South without sweet tea--also the real reason some Southerners fear the North, or the nightmarish place where tea's unsweet by default and you're judged for stirring in little packets of sugar. Southerners cant survive without out. I certainly couldn't.

So, I wrote this blog post earlier this week, and never got around to publishing it. Tonight at church we talked about the season of Lent and Lenten sacrifices. The 40 day sacrifice is supposed to be of something that brings daily bliss. The hunger and thirst for this object or food serves as a reminder of God's blessings in our own lives, which I realized in my case is sweet tea. 40 days...how bad can it be?

My last sweet tea until Easter, when 

I can eat the fat and

drink the sweet. Nehemiah 8:10

How sweet and delicious it is.