It’s still Easter! One thing I realized during
Lent was that, even when I’m not observing it as well as I want, I’m very aware
of it being Lent. I’m much less aware of Eastertide. It’s as if after the
chocolate bunnies are gone, Easter’s over, but it’s an entire season too!
Furthermore, today is Easter Sunday in the Orthodox calendar, so the season is
just really getting started.
I had a rough Lent and Easter Sunday. Between
working endlessly on my 95-page thesis and experiencing spiritual satisfaction
during Holy Week, I was happy to see the end of a season. But this one didn’t
seem to be starting any better. Work took a busy turn at the end of the week,
and then my neighbor left her wet clothes sitting in the machines for hours on
the morning I had set aside for doing five loads of laundry.
On my walk to church (in my “clearly laundry
day” clothes), I tried to talk myself out of my bad mood. I realized my urge to
control everything made every little bump a jagged edge. That was my problem
with my less-than-perfect Holy Week, and that was my problem with my less-than-perfect
weekend. I needed to be more charitable; I needed to accept imperfection as a
part of life. Easy to acknowledge, not so easy to do. I got to church and
prayed the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, praying that I find peace and charity. Then
I sit back and look at that rogue thread on the chair two rows ahead that I
really, really want to cut off.
And then, of course, I’m reminded that it’s
Divine Mercy Sunday. The homily is just what I needed to hear (even if I’m not
suddenly more charitable or merciful). I’m aware of the connections and signs;
I can sense God reaching out to me. But there are my own hang-ups and hesitations
preventing me from reaching back. My lips say one thing, and my hands say another.
I want to be overwhelmed, even though I know it’s not really about feelings. I
want joy and excitement and fortitude. He is risen after all! But the good news
(after the Good News) is that he is still risen; it’s still Easter. A couple of
Sundays don’t make a season.
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