Tuesday, March 31, 2015
It's the start of Holy Week and even though it hails on Palm Sunday, I feel that anticipation building. The sun pours in our kitchen windows on Monday morning when my little kids drag me down to breakfast.
After weeks of illness, we are finally, finally well and that alone feels like the most impossible gift. I get real sleep and marvel at how that makes everything feel brand new. A mundane morning of coffee and laundry and spilled cereal sloshing across the table feels like pure joy in light of where we've been.
It's all very Easter-ish, although we're not there yet. It's how Jesus and joy transform us. Every day life with it's endless repetition simply looks different when all the dirt has been washed away and the Sun shines in. There's a buoyancy to it. The tasks are still the same, the work still ever present, but there's purpose to it - and that purpose is pure praise.
There is still much to do to prepare. I have no idea what will be in the Easter baskets, or where my Stations of the Cross for children book has disappeared to. I need to inventory Easter clothes and make a few last minute purchases before all the good jelly beans are gone. I've got the normal baking to do and my own private ritual of scrubbing the house before Easter morning. It all could be quite overwhelming, but I'm taking a different view.
The ability to work, bless, care for, to fill a need - this is a gift. A grace. Giving one's time and efforts as an offering is a privilege. I'm learning this - the joy possible in being the blessing.
Right now, I'm just holding this feeling. This knowledge that all things can be made new. All washed clean and bright. That work can be worship and life reflects the joy we know not only when everything is perfect, but when everything is not - and we keep on keeping on with a heart that hopes.
My girls bring me the first snow drops of Spring and new life seems possible again. Lent isn't over yet and I'm still learning.
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