Sunday, April 05, 2015


Easter morning, 2:00 a.m. - pouring rain, thunder in the distance; Easter morning, 5:30 a.m., alarm clock goes off, drawing me out of a funky dream about returning to the small Missouri town where I went to graduate school; still pouring rain. Sophie does NOT want to go outside but I insist. Easter morning, 6:40, just as friends come to pick me up for sunrise service, which will obviously not see a sunrise, it stops pouring and downgrades to a sprinkle.
Top picture 2015
bottom 2014
The morning service is inside the chapel, and it still has the small feeling of intimacy, of sharing with a few select others the joyous news of Jesus having risen. But I miss the garden setting and the sense of watching daylight arrive to announce the good news. The music is beautiful--they're singing "Jesus Christ is Risen today" as we arrive--a bit late--and I find my family, with seats saved for all of us. The sermon is inspiring, and the final hymn, "In the Garden," has special meaning for me--it always made my mom cry because she had a brother who died at 20 or 22 or something (long before my birth) and they sang it at his funeral. So the chorus is one I know by heart and love. Communion requires a trip to the altar, and because my balance is so shaky I don't go, but then I am shamed by a woman who arrived in a wheelchair and abandoned it to walk, with difficulty, from pew to pew to partake of the holy feast. Jordan brings me a bit of the bread, so I feel I have taken communion.
Following this joyful yet restrained service, joy reigns as Jacob and Eva, both eight and best of friends, search for eggs at my house. I am nursing my back, and Jordan and Christian do most of the cooking; Marj cuts up fruit. Christian has made a scrumptious potato casserole, and while I planned to scramble the eggs,  he took it on and did a fine job. I had gotten hot cross buns which I adore--Coleman ate one, Jacob had one on his plate though I'm not sure he ate it, and I had a half. They not only bring back Easter memories but they remind me of the Christmas cakes my mom made, I adored, and none of my children will eat.
By ten, dishes are soaking and everyone is gone; by eleven, I've loaded and started the dishwasher, though somewhere along there my persistent chronic back pain settled in one hip and made each step painful. I go to bed with the heating pad, then back up to answer emails, read Facebook and the Sunday paper, and begin this blog which is already too long.
From there, the day was one of sleep, which I guess does knit the raveled sleeve of care. Back to bed, but I rouse myself to make it to Jordan and Christian's by four-thirty, expecting to be just in time for Easter dinner. It was five-thirty before we ate--delicious fajitas (I eat the insides but not the tortilla) and I opt out of dessert. Home, a bit at my computer and back in bed by seven-thirty.
Easter night, almost ten: rouse myself to find a good, devoted dog sleeping by my side. Let her out and give her a treat, make my toilette, and head for bed again. Hip pain which was almost intolerable in the late morning is almost gone. I'm a big advocate of sleep. God works in mysterious ways, just like Mom always told me.
I am so blessed with family and love and church. It's a thankful, worshipful Easter. Hope the same for you each and every one.

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