Now of course being aware could just be a euphemism for doing nothing – and it just well might be. It's easy sometimes to open our eyes to the world around us and then fail to act upon what we see. That's me most of the time these days. But when I'm at the point that my main goal some days is just to make it to the end of the day without having gone utterly insane from being trapped inside the house with screaming children – to open my eyes and get past my self-absorption seems like a good place to start.

So being aware…

Here's where I show how really pathetic I am. I've been reading through the Lenten Guide provided by Mustard Seed Associates. It is a fantastic resource, full of faith and community building suggestions for the season. I was drawn to the meditation they had on Psalm 51:10 "Create in me a clean heart O God and renew a right spirit within me." It resonated with my desire to be more aware of my world and get over myself. And it's a way more spiritual of a prayer than "God help me not be a selfish bitch."  But part of the Lenten Guide is a suggestion to take the Mutunga $2 Challenge. The idea is for a family to commit for a week to eating on $2 per person per day. Since most of the world only makes $2 a day, this is an exercise to help foster awareness as to how most of the world lives. If anything, it serves to highlight how much we truly do have. I think it's a great idea, but (and here's the pathetic part) I'm not doing it. But in a strange way that too has helped me be more aware.

When I first heard about the challenge, I mentally started adding up the cost of what it takes to feed Aidan each day. At 8 months his diet is rather fixed and I quickly realized that there is no way that I could feed him on $2 a day. That shocked me since I already try to be economical with his food. His diet consists of breast milk, formula, oatmeal, and pureed fruits and veggies. So the breast milk is free and if I was a bit more diligent about using the (expensive) breast pump I have then perhaps I wouldn't need the formula. But the reality is that he gets formula in his oatmeal and generally one bottle a day. I'm already over a dollar there. Granted I use organic formula – the stuff that doesn't contain hormones, steroids, and melamine. Perhaps I could save a few cents by feeding him those poisons, but really? On top of that I make all of his pureed food. I save a ton of money (and disposable jars) doing that, but even 8-10 oz a day adds up fast (between $1-2 a day). But if I were buying the jar food, that same amount of food would cost between $2-5 a day.

But as I thought through that I was reminded that it is generally the poorer mothers who are forced to buy the more expensive foods. For a lot of women because of job circumstances using expensive formula is the only option. And finding time to make babyfood is hard – it's a lot easier for busy moms to just buy jars off the shelf. Even ignoring what is healthiest for the baby or what is most environmentally friendly – the bottom line is that it costs more to get by when you're stressed out trying to make ends meet. So I have to ask – what causes this? Is it culture? All the other moms use formula, so it seems like the only option. Marketing? All those free formula samples supplied to hospitals and doctors making their mark. Lack of education? Do women not know the cost difference and health benefits? Or simply systemic injustices that prevent poor mothers from fully focusing on their family. This is not just about the poor in third world countries struggling on $2 a day – but its about minimum wage single moms here that are caught in a system that holds them back. When those that can least afford it have to spend the most on food there are cultural issues that seriously need addressed.

What am I doing about that? I don't know. Yet. But I know it helps to be aware.

I totally understand the idea of being disciplined and of using one's extra time or craving to draw closer to God. That's in theory at least how its supposed to work. But it all seemed sort of hollow to me. What lasting spiritual effect is there of not eating chocolate, complaining about it, putting others out who happen to serve it, and then resuming consumption come Easter? Or what's the point of giving up TV when you know that you'll just catch up on those episodes of Lost on TiVo or DVD after Easter?

What confuses me even more is the tendency to give up relational things for Lent. I've had friends give up using a cell phone – which just made it really annoying for us (or their employer) to reach them. Others give up going out with friends and others give up the whole Facebook, Twitter, blog thing. While I understand how such things can be addictions, but it just seems counter-intuitive to the ideals of Lent to separate ourselves from community.

So this is where I'm sure I offend, but its something I've been struggling with. I just don't see the purpose of Lent to be this perfunctory elimination of some random thing we like whose loss we endure simply until Easter. It's just too individualistic – it's all about me, my sacrifice, and (hopefully) my relationship with God. And while I admit to and am grateful for the personal message of the gospel, this perspective seems to forget that part of the message of the gospel (and of Lent) is that of righting relationships. The gospel is not just about us – it's not just about getting our own butts into heaven or making sure we feel close to God. It's also about loving our neighbors, seeking justice for the oppressed, and being part of the body of Christ.

So that's why I am uncomfortable with reducing Lent to chocolate or a few episodes of American Idol. During Lent we are called to right our relationships with God and with others. So I'm more inclined to instead of giving up Facebook use it more deliberately – trying to be more aware of the simple everyday parts of my friends lives. I don't want to give up food simply for the sake of giving it up – I want to instead show love to others by eating food that was ethically sourced. I want to discipline my life to be more aware, more involved, and more loving. I want the season of Lent to transform me in ways that extend beyond Easter.

That said, I'm at a loss how to proceed this season. I want to love others and build community, but right now I'm still struggling to figure out how. It would be easy to simply eliminate something from my life, but I'm beginning to understand that perhaps it is better to build. But of course, that's a lot messier. So I'm still trying to figure it out.