“I Can’t Eat Lasagna for Breakfast”; And Other Dumb Stuff We Tell Ourselves
We had a wonderful family get-together the other night.
Two of my foodie siblings and two of our grown children (along with their families) enjoyed a Italian-themed supper out in our backyard that’s in full summer bloom.
The weather was balmy, the littles were their always-delightful, adorable selves; and their visiting Great Dane, Willow, lumbered about with her usual charm. The deer were grazing in the hills behind us while we ate delicious lemon-olive oil cake, laughing and enjoying one another’s company.
So the next morning (my day off), after spending a good while checking out my favorite bloggers’ new posts, my stomach (fully aware of the delectable leftovers in the fridge) messaged Command Central:
“It’s time for food—and the sooner the better!”
To which Command Central responded:
“I can’t eat lasagna for breakfast.”
And that’s what got me thinking and what inspired this fun little post.
After I informed myself that having lasagna for breakfast was truly unethical, I started the bargaining process… you know how we do.
Well, I thought to myself, there’s a big piece of lasagna from last night (that always tastes better the next day) and it’s readily available. And who says you can’t have it?
The inner dialogue continued…
Okay. I suppose I could. And then I can make up for my momentary lapse in judgment by cycling 50 miles or going to the gym.
Then I just rolled my eyes and came to this conclusion:
You’re being a weirdo. Just eat the lasagna for breakfast and move forward with your life.
Being disciplined (that constant and needful struggle) is necessary and godly, but it’s nice to be able to recognize when we’re being a tad myopic, neurotic or legalistic, and missing some of life’s little pleasures as a result.
Take the workweek for example and the noble task of making a living.
Can you take a day off—just because?
A day to do nothing and just decompress from the daily grind—maybe listen to some oldies, read a little classical fiction (like Dickens), or watch the sunset at Bodega Head.
But I’m not creating, producing, or working! thou protesteth.
It’s okay.
Nurturing your soul is no waste of time.
I call them mental health days. We all need them, even Jesus made good use of them (Mark 6:31).
And I make sure the staff know they’re free to take them as needed.
One day the weather was gorgeous after a long bout with that atmospheric river, so I told them:
Get out of here—all of you! Go home, put on some lotion that smells like coconuts and enjoy some sunshine!
Bosses can’t do that, can they? What about discipline and deadlines?
Nothing wrong with hard work.
But at the same time, there are no rules against being kind. And happy people who experience grace are always more productive in the long run.
Along the same lines, it’s okay to bring home a present for your hardworking darling, all wrapped up fancy—just like it’s their birthday, just because.
When they ask, Why the present? You can say, Because I love you—that’s all.
What?!
It wasn’t on the schedule! It’s not what we usually do—buy someone a gift for no reason.
But why not?
Life goes by fast, and if you don’t insert random acts of kindness—you’ll get to the end without any.
One day my friend and I drove past a homeless man begging on Cleveland. It was cloudy and dreary and he looked cold and miserable.
My friend said: Let’s go get him a warm jacket, a good sleeping bag and a thermos full of hot coffee.
But come on, gentlemen, said Mr. Punctilious, Don’t you two have important things to do, places to go and people to see?
A kind act to a soul in distress that’s done in the name of Jesus is just as important as anything else on my to-do-list for today.
We pushed back a meeting and went happily about our Father’s business, more blessed than the guy with the new sleeping bag and a warm pair of socks (Acts 20:25).
Isn’t it a shame when a drive for excellence can get in the way of doing something excellent!
Life is short; God loves good deeds. So why not?
And have you noticed that most of Jesus’ good deeds were done on the way… not planned, not listed on the schedule for that day.
There are things we might not normally do that may not seem prudent or practical in the moment, but they bring a touch of sweetness to what can otherwise be a rather arduous life.
In our quest for achieving, let’s be careful not to regiment out the grace and spontaneity that enriches life and provides for a little breath of fresh air… lest life become all duty and all drudgery.
When our three kids were in grade school, we had just finished dinner one night. They were all in matching plaid jammies that their Proverbs 31 momma had made them.
Instead of being excused to begin after-dinner chores, I had another idea:
Let’s go to the city and ride the trolly in our jammies up and down the hills in San Francisco! Come on everyone, let’s pile into the car!
Are you kidding?
Leave the dishes in the sink and the crumbs on the floor? What about the bedtime routine? Has someone lost their mind?
I remember them squealing with delight every time they got the operator to ring that iconic bell. Maybe I liked it more than they did, but it brought joy to their little hearts and that brought joy to ours.
Go ahead and live a little.
And it goes without saying (though I am saying it) that I’m not encouraging irresponsibility or foolishness; he who throws caution to the wind, gets blown away in the storm.
I was hoping not to have to use the tired and trite expression: take time to smell the roses (I’m cringing), but it looks like I was unsuccessful in that regard.
The dishes will always be there, but your children… won’t be.
Life is a vapor; we appear like the morning mist—the sun comes up and poof! We’re gone.
Take the time to enjoy the life that God gave you to enjoy (1 Timothy 6:17).
Eat the lasagna for breakfast and move forward with your life.
Jesus said, I have come that they might have abundant life—and have it to the full (John 10:10).