Sweet Jesus,
The anticipation of your return has been so very palpable all day! I've barely been able to concentrate because I've so been looking forward to this evening's celebration of Easter!
It reminds me of waiting for Spencer to return from Afghanistan. I didn't write to him every day (or nearly enough) but I thought of him constantly. I saw reminders of him everywhere. I hugged strangers in uniform because I missed him so much. (As it turns out, soldiers don't really mind this, as they are usually far from their own mothers also.)
It's also like the anticipation I shared with Misty and the kids waiting for Jordan to return from Korea. We counted down the days, then hours, then minutes.
We watched airplanes touch down, and we knew the wait was over, and we'd soon be holding our loved ones in our arms. We shared this anticipation with groups of others waiting for the same thing! A return that was triumphant! It's the same thing waiting for Easter.
My beloved Jesus, you were gone. The depth and reality of that was only really known to your mother and your best friends, the apostles. Even though you told them over and over what would happen, it was so radical, they didn't understand. I have only ever lived with the knowledge of you as a Risen Lord. Crucified, yes, but I already knew what comes next. When I think of the desolation they must have felt it's overwhelming! Then you did the most amazing thing.
You returned.
And tonight, the whole world rejoiced with me! We sang the best songs! We lit the most candles! Mary's beloved son came back from a war zone! (Kinda like Spencer!) The scary part had passed!
You returned from a foreign place where you made a HUGE impact to return to the ones who love you the most and count you as one of their family (Kinda like Jordan, except you were in Hell, and Jordan had music, buddies and bulgogi). Still! There was much rejoicing!!!
You returned to me! My heart sings!
Lent was a time to prepare, and tonight you came home! We sang songs of praise, which we will continue as we celebrate all day Sunday, and on for the next 8 days. (We Catholics know how to celebrate!) I just want to shout ALLELUIA from the rooftops!
This will be my last love letter this Lent. Although really, I hope that I can love you in a way that makes every day of my life a love letter to you. I hope my actions and my words, my intentions and interactions with others speak volumes of our love. Writing to you every night has made me want to include you more perfectly into all that I do. Let me be one with you, so that what you do, I also do. What you want, I also want. Who you love, I also love.
Thank you for coming back. (Insert me grinning like an idiot! A really happy love-idiot!)
Love Forever,
Me.
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Friday, April 3, 2015
Easter Vigil
Dear sweet, beloved Lord,
We have arrived. It is the day that we remember your ultimate sacrifice. It is the day when we remember your horrible, bloody death. This would be completely devastating if it was the end of the story. It isn't, because you came back.
You could have just said, "I'm out" at any point, and returned to Heaven and let us be on our own. Hopeless. But you didn't.
You came back for me. You came back for my kids and my friends. You came back for people who haven't even acknowledged you yet, but you know what their story WILL be. You came back because you know I can't save myself, and I'm hopeless without you. You came back because you love me. You came back to open the door to Heaven for all of us who want to be counted among your friends. The fact that you loved me enough to continue through the entire crucifixion, KNOWING what was going to happen brings me to tears. Every. Single. Time.
Tomorrow night will be the finale of the three days. It is easily my favorite celebration of the year. (Celebrating Christmas Eve at the Vatican would be the only thing that might top it.) New Christians will be born in the waters of baptism. Brothers and sisters in Christ will taste your body and blood for the first time!
We will celebrate your TRIUMPHANT RETURN!!!
YeeeeHawwwww!!!
Thank you for loving me so much! I'm excited to go and bask in your loving mercy!!
Love,
Me
We have arrived. It is the day that we remember your ultimate sacrifice. It is the day when we remember your horrible, bloody death. This would be completely devastating if it was the end of the story. It isn't, because you came back.
You could have just said, "I'm out" at any point, and returned to Heaven and let us be on our own. Hopeless. But you didn't.
You came back for me. You came back for my kids and my friends. You came back for people who haven't even acknowledged you yet, but you know what their story WILL be. You came back because you know I can't save myself, and I'm hopeless without you. You came back because you love me. You came back to open the door to Heaven for all of us who want to be counted among your friends. The fact that you loved me enough to continue through the entire crucifixion, KNOWING what was going to happen brings me to tears. Every. Single. Time.
Tomorrow night will be the finale of the three days. It is easily my favorite celebration of the year. (Celebrating Christmas Eve at the Vatican would be the only thing that might top it.) New Christians will be born in the waters of baptism. Brothers and sisters in Christ will taste your body and blood for the first time!
We will celebrate your TRIUMPHANT RETURN!!!
YeeeeHawwwww!!!
Thank you for loving me so much! I'm excited to go and bask in your loving mercy!!
Love,
Me
Thursday, April 2, 2015
The Phantom and the Triduum
Dear Jesus,
Today is the beginning of the Triduum (or Three Days) as you well know. It's the time when the Easter Celebration begins with the remembrance of your Last Supper, and your agony in the garden of Gethsemane. Father Chris will wash the feet of some of the young men in our parish, just as Pope Francis will continue his tradition of washing the feet of some of the young people in a Juvenile Detention facility in Rome. You washed the feet of your own followers. This is an amazing show of love to me. You know how I feel about feet.
Today was also the first time I've seen the musical "The Phantom of the Opera". I have to admit, it took a while for me to get into it. I didn't know the story ahead of time. I didn't know the characters or the setting (except I was pretty sure there was a Phantom, and it took place at an Opera.) I suspect a lot of people go into Easter the same way.
At the Wharton Center, I was surrounded by people who had intimate knowledge of the story and the characters. They looked forward to seeing THIS recreation of the story they know and love so well. How will THIS actress represent Christine? How well will THIS actor sing the part of Raoul? Will this Phantom be able to bring Andrew Lloyd Weber's hoped-for emotions to life?
It really IS just like the Triduum Celebration, except I know this story intimately! I'm surrounded by others who know the story and love the characters, but it's so much more. We all look to see if THIS Triduum will represent you properly. Who will sing the litany of the Saints? Who will read the parts of your passion story? Will this presentation of the Gospel story bring about our Heavenly Father's hoped-for message? I know it will!
There was a moment in the play that, despite being unfamiliar with the story really touched me. It's towards the end, and the Phantom has revealed that he loves Christine, even if it's a twisted, self-centered type of love. She looks at this "hideous monster" (that has taught her to love the beauty of song, and how to sing better than she'd ever hoped) and asks God to help her let him know he is NOT UNLOVED. She kisses him, and hugs him, and he changes. Now he knows.
It's so completely YOU! We are the monsters. Self-seeking and ugly, we long to love you by possessing you. We are greedy and want you to do what we wish for you, not what's best for you. Even when we have moments of beauty, we forget that we are NOT UNLOVED.
Thank you for the Phantom. Thank you for the Triduum, Thank you for kissing me and hugging me and making me KNOW that I am NOT UNLOVED.
I am changed, and this is just the beginning.
Love,
Me
Today is the beginning of the Triduum (or Three Days) as you well know. It's the time when the Easter Celebration begins with the remembrance of your Last Supper, and your agony in the garden of Gethsemane. Father Chris will wash the feet of some of the young men in our parish, just as Pope Francis will continue his tradition of washing the feet of some of the young people in a Juvenile Detention facility in Rome. You washed the feet of your own followers. This is an amazing show of love to me. You know how I feel about feet.
Today was also the first time I've seen the musical "The Phantom of the Opera". I have to admit, it took a while for me to get into it. I didn't know the story ahead of time. I didn't know the characters or the setting (except I was pretty sure there was a Phantom, and it took place at an Opera.) I suspect a lot of people go into Easter the same way.
At the Wharton Center, I was surrounded by people who had intimate knowledge of the story and the characters. They looked forward to seeing THIS recreation of the story they know and love so well. How will THIS actress represent Christine? How well will THIS actor sing the part of Raoul? Will this Phantom be able to bring Andrew Lloyd Weber's hoped-for emotions to life?
It really IS just like the Triduum Celebration, except I know this story intimately! I'm surrounded by others who know the story and love the characters, but it's so much more. We all look to see if THIS Triduum will represent you properly. Who will sing the litany of the Saints? Who will read the parts of your passion story? Will this presentation of the Gospel story bring about our Heavenly Father's hoped-for message? I know it will!
There was a moment in the play that, despite being unfamiliar with the story really touched me. It's towards the end, and the Phantom has revealed that he loves Christine, even if it's a twisted, self-centered type of love. She looks at this "hideous monster" (that has taught her to love the beauty of song, and how to sing better than she'd ever hoped) and asks God to help her let him know he is NOT UNLOVED. She kisses him, and hugs him, and he changes. Now he knows.
It's so completely YOU! We are the monsters. Self-seeking and ugly, we long to love you by possessing you. We are greedy and want you to do what we wish for you, not what's best for you. Even when we have moments of beauty, we forget that we are NOT UNLOVED.
Thank you for the Phantom. Thank you for the Triduum, Thank you for kissing me and hugging me and making me KNOW that I am NOT UNLOVED.
I am changed, and this is just the beginning.
Love,
Me
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Spring Cleaning
Thank you Thank you Thank you Dear Lord,
Thank you for this beautiful day! I wore short sleeves! I wore shorts! It was WARM!!! So I thought I would clean out my gardens for a little spring cleaning.
I started with the basil patch. Well, it used to be a basil patch. At the moment it looks like a rectangle of dirt surrounded by concrete with dried out twigs sticking out. As I pulled out the old stems, I could smell a hint of basil, reminding me of the lively stalks of leaves that once grew from these roots. They flavored our food, and scented our comings and goings, as the patch is right outside our front door. What a great memory. The basil is dead now, and is being removed for a fresh new batch of plants. I have the soil all cleared of what "used to be" and prepared for "what is coming next". Lent is the time I need to do the same with my soul.
Then I started removing the dried flowers from last year. To be honest, they're quite beautiful the way they are. They are dainty, brown and so dry that the blooms burst into an explosion of seeds when I touch it. As I remove these beautiful old flowers, I find below them the bright green of the new leaves. They are the fulfillment of the promise of new flowers. Their roots run deep, and never die. They return anew each year, but I must be willing to remove the old to make room for the new growth.
The new growth gets in the way of my raking under the holly bushes. There are already so many new branches, bright green and full of hope. They hide the "stuff" that has blown under them, but I want to clear it out to make the fertile soil more accessible. I rake and struggle, and out comes a layer of old leaves. I rake and battle the new branches out of the way, and my rake pulls out a load of leaves, baseballs, and old, dead iris stems. I had no idea a baseball was in there, and I had COMPLETELY forgotten that irises were back there. Who knew? As I clear the old debris, I can see the tender green shoots that are beginning to pop out of the soil, promising new flowers soon.
This reminds me SO MUCH of my need to really clean out the junk in my heart and in my life. And once I clean it out, go back and rake up another batch until the stuff that's been concealed is revealed and removed, and only the fertile soil remains.
Soil contains the promise of growth and beauty. So does my soul. Thank you for being close to both today!
Love,
Me
Thank you for this beautiful day! I wore short sleeves! I wore shorts! It was WARM!!! So I thought I would clean out my gardens for a little spring cleaning.
I started with the basil patch. Well, it used to be a basil patch. At the moment it looks like a rectangle of dirt surrounded by concrete with dried out twigs sticking out. As I pulled out the old stems, I could smell a hint of basil, reminding me of the lively stalks of leaves that once grew from these roots. They flavored our food, and scented our comings and goings, as the patch is right outside our front door. What a great memory. The basil is dead now, and is being removed for a fresh new batch of plants. I have the soil all cleared of what "used to be" and prepared for "what is coming next". Lent is the time I need to do the same with my soul.
Then I started removing the dried flowers from last year. To be honest, they're quite beautiful the way they are. They are dainty, brown and so dry that the blooms burst into an explosion of seeds when I touch it. As I remove these beautiful old flowers, I find below them the bright green of the new leaves. They are the fulfillment of the promise of new flowers. Their roots run deep, and never die. They return anew each year, but I must be willing to remove the old to make room for the new growth.
The new growth gets in the way of my raking under the holly bushes. There are already so many new branches, bright green and full of hope. They hide the "stuff" that has blown under them, but I want to clear it out to make the fertile soil more accessible. I rake and struggle, and out comes a layer of old leaves. I rake and battle the new branches out of the way, and my rake pulls out a load of leaves, baseballs, and old, dead iris stems. I had no idea a baseball was in there, and I had COMPLETELY forgotten that irises were back there. Who knew? As I clear the old debris, I can see the tender green shoots that are beginning to pop out of the soil, promising new flowers soon.
This reminds me SO MUCH of my need to really clean out the junk in my heart and in my life. And once I clean it out, go back and rake up another batch until the stuff that's been concealed is revealed and removed, and only the fertile soil remains.
Soil contains the promise of growth and beauty. So does my soul. Thank you for being close to both today!
Love,
Me
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