I Think I Am A Day Off
Yesterday felt like Good Friday to me, as I listened to Rutter's Requiem and Barber's Adagio and prepared a Holy Thursday service designed to lead us to travel with Jesus into the tomb.
Today? Kind of like Holy Saturday. A certain longing, a certain expectation. A tremendous, fully pregnant pause before something new occurs. I go about the business of a day off, some shopping and errands, helping DH with her income taxes, mailing letters, preparing meals. I am marking time ... waiting.
The snow comes and goes --one moment there is sunshine, another there is white out.
At the same time, it is a day for self-care before the rigors of tomorrow [preparing for Easter] and the Great Day Itself, when I must preach that new thing, the exclamation that comes at the end of the pause.
In the meantime, DH is engaged in an act of positive destruction, removing the 70's era Bad Acid Trip Paisley wallpaper from our entry way, so we can bring our little foyer into the 21st century. Not being cognizant of the solemnity of Good Friday, she is listening to showtunes and Anita Baker. She's already thinking about the interior painting to be done this year, the garden to be planted, an old chest of drawers to be stripped of its ugly paint and renewed into a useful piece of furniture.
On the other hand, that too is resurrection, is it not?
Today? Kind of like Holy Saturday. A certain longing, a certain expectation. A tremendous, fully pregnant pause before something new occurs. I go about the business of a day off, some shopping and errands, helping DH with her income taxes, mailing letters, preparing meals. I am marking time ... waiting.
The snow comes and goes --one moment there is sunshine, another there is white out.
At the same time, it is a day for self-care before the rigors of tomorrow [preparing for Easter] and the Great Day Itself, when I must preach that new thing, the exclamation that comes at the end of the pause.
In the meantime, DH is engaged in an act of positive destruction, removing the 70's era Bad Acid Trip Paisley wallpaper from our entry way, so we can bring our little foyer into the 21st century. Not being cognizant of the solemnity of Good Friday, she is listening to showtunes and Anita Baker. She's already thinking about the interior painting to be done this year, the garden to be planted, an old chest of drawers to be stripped of its ugly paint and renewed into a useful piece of furniture.
On the other hand, that too is resurrection, is it not?
posted by Reverend Dona Quixote @ 2:05 PM
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