This Easter Vigil

Holy Week.

Spring break.

The children are home and home is full of the life of children.

Yet even in this midst of great gifts, my old enemy fell heavy upon me, and my strength failed.

My heart turned in upon itself and my own selfishness threatened to consume me.

My sins can overtake me so quickly. 

It’s shocking, how near I am to destroying with my own hands all that which I hold dear.

 And yet, His love for me was not shaken even then.

I may be shaken, but His love is not.

Days passed with the weight heavy about my ankles, with me using my strength to cling to the side of the pit.

Then suddenly, it lifted.  

Inexplicable mercy.

The sun feels like spring sun, and I am outstretched beneath it.

On the picnic table at the park,

Arms splayed, face turned toward the sun--  I receive.

Who am I

That I should live and he should die?

My God my God

Beneath the rod

Why have you not forsaken me?

Oh, taste and see- the Lord is free

Is this my cruciform life, here in the sun?

How can it be that I receive such grace as that moment?

His body given for me.

And the altar is stripped, as He was stripped of all things.

And I shall be stripped- of loved ones, of health, of life itself.

But I shall still have Jesus.  

Jesus has me.

I think on our dear pastor whose course is now run.

Stripped of all things, and yet he still has Jesus. 

Jesus still has him.

And I sit under children remembering the cross, and my big-hearted soft-hearted son burrows into me and says “I hate good Friday. I wish we could just skip to Easter.”

But we have a funeral to go to yet, dear son.

Just a little more sadness.

We wait.

I will wait with you.