Thursday, April 2, 2015

91/365 A Maundy Thursday for the Birds

It was a Maundy Thursday for the birds. the kind of day that felt so far removed from anything meaningful or meditative. The older boys were off school which was wonderful, but the younger two and I still had class at our Chinese school, so the boys tagged along with me. They were wonderful and had a great time, but I was spent by the time we got home and they watched a football movie while I crashed. 

Early this morning, I had that still, quiet time to think in worship and remembrance in the dark, but that was as far as it got. Except for dinner, when I went on a short monologue about the meaning of "Maundy" as everyone asked their distracted questions and we passed the broccoli. 

Sometimes life here, with its different schedule, its removal from all the anchors of familiarity and community and tradition, can make me feel like we are a ship adrift, with only our memory and maybe a few books to keep us company. Days like today and all this coming beautiful weekend are a little untethered and lonely. In some ways, it pushes me to have eyes to see... how does this holiday, this call to remembrance that proclaims a living reality, change and play out into every seemingly insignificant corner of my life? Without the pomp and circumstance and frills, do I see the resurrection life, the redemption story, right here in my family, my heart, my neighborhood? I do see it. And that is where the Power of Easter still resides. Whether my Maundy Thursday saw it or not.

| morning |


| and then, there was a real bunny |

| afternoon |

because he gave and gave, even when he must have been so tired

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