I returned to church today after many weeks of absence. First with the RSV, and then the winter lasting so long, Mike and I decided to not take Tomas out. When the weather finally improved the mono struck the girls. Mike did stay home a few Sundays and I went; but mostly with 3 kids not feeling well I was the one who stayed home.
On Holy Thursday when Jesus was washing feet, I was serving sick kids meals in bed, bathing tired bodies, and unifying myself to Christ through the service on EWTN. On Good Friday, when the world turned dark and shook, and the Temple veil was torn in two, I died Easter eggs for a little girl who was too sick to finish hers, and cried in her bed because she didn't have the energy to, and unified myself to Christ through the service on EWTN.
But today, joyful, glorious, today we made an all out effort to get them up and to Mass. I wanted to go to the 8am because I knew by our normal 11am time the girls would be crashing. That meant a very early morning, dressing children while they were still in bed, brushing their hair in bed and helping brush teeth and put on shoes. We made it with a few minutes to spare and got ourselves settled. No big deal, I've gone to Mass for 37 years.
But today, after a long absence felt most deeply these last few days, when the multitude raised its voice for the entrance hymn, "Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia!"; I wept. Small tears to witness a tremendous sense of gratitude. My senses were awash in the glory of a Catholic Mass, and for one hour my heat rested in Him.
The rest of the day was pretty typical, egg hunt, baskets, lovely friends for dinner, and an exhausted me trying to finish this post so I can get to bed. Pics tomorrow and the story of last years Easter miracle.
Happy, happy Easter everyone!