The Week that Changed the World

I read the following this morning, and I'm almost too ashamed to admit that the thought that we are now in Holy Week hadn't yet occurred to me. In the midst of all of my busyness and self-centered-ness, my own worries and tragedies and joys, this is a nice reminder to shift my focus this week and hopefully, each week that follows.

"This week, take the time to wonder about what we are doing, and what we are remembering.

For close to two thousand years, we have gathered like this, in places like this, to light candles and chant prayers and read again the ancient stories of our deliverance and redemption.

But are we aware of what we are doing? Do we understand what it means? Do we realize the price that was paid? A proper accounting is impossible. The ledger—His life, for our souls—seems woefully unbalanced.

So try this. This week, take a moment in each day that passes to wonder: What was He doing during this time of that one week all those centuries ago? What was crossing His mind on Monday, on Tuesday, on Wednesday? What sort of anguish? What kind of dread?

Has anything we have ever worried about, or lost sleep over, or agonized about, even come close?

He was a man like us in all things but sin. He must have been terrified, His mind buzzing with questions. Long after the others had drifted off to sleep, did He stay awake and worry? Maybe He sat up alone, late at night, whittling a piece of wood, the way His father had taught Him, until a splinter sliced His skin, drawing a rivulet of blood. He might have flinched and thought: Well, this is nothing. And still it stings. How intense would the pain of death become? How long would it last? How much humiliation would He be forced to endure, stripped and bleeding? And: What about His mother? Is there anything He could do to spare her from this?

As you shop for Easter baskets and dye, think of this. Ponder this. Wonder about it. Make it a kind of prayer.And then, remember what we are doing, and why.

Because, of all the calendars in all of human history, this is the week that changed the world."

The Deacon's Bench (H/T: The Anchoress)

I've always (well, as long as I can remember) been torn between living in Grace so much that I don't pay enough attention to the price that was paid on the one hand, and being brought down by the immense nature of my own fallen-ness. That feeling is brought to the surface especially at Easter. There is the joy of resurrection just waiting to be celebrated, but in order for there to be resurrection, there has to be death. Living in that moment between the two is where I feel torn.

On a real tangible and personal level, that is the precise place that I've found myself lately. Living with the knowledge that Joshua is full and complete in Heaven, never knowing the pain that this broken world brings; but also living day in and day out with the knowledge that our family will never know him here on Earth. Although I couldn't have said this a month or two ago, I honestly can say that there is joy in believing that he is more whole than I, there is the sting of being left behind much too soon.

Grace and peace.

Here's another good read to start off the week: God Issues