The Way I Feel Right Now

Last year I had a really wonderful Holy Week. Rose and I together wound up traveling a parallel spiritual journey that made Easter the most joyous ever. I told all this to a friend who loves Lent. She said that she couldn't believe I was someone who had to be practically forced into looking forward to Lent this year. The funny thing is that I dove into Lent but once the discipline of limiting blogging time set in, it has been a relatively smooth, unemotional ride. I did have an exceptional time during the last week of being allowed to see the "design on the embroidery" in many situations. What a blessing and one that never came without selfless service, which I am not usually involved in very much. (Ahem. We will talk about that some other time.) However, those incidents were not particularly connected to Lent.

In one way I have surprised myself. I've had the opportunity for adoration over the last two weekends, pretty much any time I'd like ... yet I haven't been moved to take advantage of it. And, let me tell you, adoration opportunities are very rare in our parish and I'm one of a relatively small group of people who have access to this opportunity over these weekends. Usually I'm on this like a chicken on a June bug. Still I didn't go. No particular reason; just didn't feel like it. At the same time I've been watching myself, observing this as if from a distance. I think that sometimes we are drawn to Him and other times, well I don't know, it just isn't how He is going to reach us, or at least me at this moment.

So I've been thinking about this some, the missed opportunities and my lack of reaction, just riding along in my head wondering what this Holy Week will be like. I'm planning on making time to watch The Passion of the Christ next weekend (if every other Christian in town hasn't rented it first, in which case I suppose I'll be forced to buy it). I'll go to Mass for Holy Thursday and Good Friday. I skip the vigil services on Holy Saturday. Not only are they packed and lengthy but I like to find the open tomb the way the women did, on Sunday morning. (Also, I keep a special place in my heart for the Vigil Saturday in 2000 when I came home to the Church.)

Waiting up for Hannah to come back on Saturday night I was typing in posts about the beatitudes that went perfectly with Holy Week (y'all will just have to keep coming back to see them, won't you?). Looking at these readings I wasn't amazed, just matter-of-fact in my acceptance that they mirrored Holy Week so perfectly and came up at just the right time to end on Good Friday. The fact that they were the perfect preparation for me didn't escape me either.

Then, Sunday morning, I realized that I'd better have some things to post for Easter itself. Kind of like a forgotten homework assignment I just remembered, this made me tired. Surely every other blog I knew would have something great for Easter. Right? But it doesn't hurt just to see if anything hits me right (which is the only way that anything winds up on this blog). I turned to my "go-to" devotional, In Conversation with God ... and I found where Jesus was waiting to touch my heart. He had the prep work done and was ready to make His point. As I slowly turned the pages for Holy Week, phrases leapt out at me, perfectly speaking to my heart, bringing tears to my eyes as I thought of what Jesus endured ... for me. That was when I knew that I don't have to wonder about what this Holy Week and Easter will be like. They will be perfect for me because God is waiting for me there ... in the right time, Holy Week itself.

Who could ever figure out the Holy Spirit? I am so thankful that I wasn't trying to "force" anything because, naturally, He has this Easter all planned for me. I just haven't gotten there yet. And what did He did to make this point to me? This blog. Kinda funny, huh? But then He works in ironic ways too, doesn't He?

There's a woman who is embroidering. Her son, seated on a low stool, sees her work, but in reverse. He sees the knots of the embroidery, the tangled threads. He says, "Mother, what are you doing? I can't make out what you are doing!" Then mother lowers the embroidery hoop and shows the good part of the work. Each color is in place that the various threads form a harmonious design. So, we see the reverse side of the embroidery because we are seated on the low stool.

Saint Pio