When 5:00 rolls around, I want a glass of wine. Especially if it’s winter and I’m home alone with our children and it’s dark outside. I started to notice this desire a few months ago. I had this niggling warning in the back of my brain about it, but I pushed it away every night. It’s only one glass, I told myself. At least most of the time . . .
Then, in early December, I was staying with an old friend on a work-related trip. I got to her house around 6:00, and she asked, “Do you want a glass of wine?”
I paused before answering, because I was surprised to discover that I hadn’t thought about wine at all that afternoon. She, the mother of four children, said, “I’ve already had mine.”
And we confessed to each other that persistent desire–as the days grow short and we find ourselves preparing the kids’ dinner while also managing playdates and homework and fussy babies–that persistent desire to fill a glass with wine. “It makes me feel like an adult for a minute,” my friend said. “It’s something I can do just for me in the midst of doing everything for everyone else.”
I nodded my head. The reason I didn’t want a glass of wine that day at her house was because I had been on a train all day. Six hours of time to do whatever I wanted–read, write, pray, journal, eat, sleep. The night promised more of the same–dinner with an old friend, uninterrupted sleep, a bathroom all to myself.
When I returned to our family, I made a few changes–signed the kids up for gymnastics and Music Together so we weren’t stuck at home every afternoon, talked to a few other friends who were aware of the same pattern in their lives, and I also started to pray about it.
Tags: lenten reflections















