I realize it’s not Easter, but this picture is from five years ago today, and it’s a beautiful memory; so here we are.
Would I remember this if I hadn’t posted the photo to Facebook? Not likely, but I did, and there are some things about this day I remember so vividly; others not so much. Pastor Stephanie called on everyone who could to take out their phones and take a selfie of “Easter People.” Unusual at the time, because selfies were less of a thing than they are now, and it’s not often you’re told to take out your phone during a worship service. I do not remember other specifics of the sermon, but know it must’ve been beautiful, because her sermons always were. I remember the gratitude I felt that Elise was sitting with her Godparents during Easter worship and the joy I felt when Jeanie (or perhaps it was Larissa) texted me the photo. And looking at it today, I love that in the background I see my buddy Terry, who I got to know last spring’s Civil Rights tour, and has become my favorite person take shit from AND dish it out to.
Today is Palm Sunday. What someone somewhere referred to as the Lentiest Lent of all time will soon be in the books. I have seemingly fallen into a bit of a pandemic Sunday morning routine. I get up and clean the kitchen, which is always disgusting, I write a little, I log on to worship, then I come finish writing. I am thankful the Pastor spoke of the difficulty of these days and those to come in her sermon this morning, because I think maybe I’m starting to hate this Sunday routine of mine. I miss singing with my people. And enjoying coffee with other parents between services and overpriced brunches and bloody maries. And sometimes partaking of virtual worship with my husband makes me wish he had a mute button. And the kids too, for that matter.
Not really anything else to say or report. The days are long but the weeks are longer. Or some bullshit like that. I miss your faces. Be well, Friends.