This morning a group of us gathered at church for breakfast and reflection together on “tomb time.” The experience led me to these words.
tomb time
there was dead silence
from those trapped
outside the tomb
not a word about
where they went or
if they stayed together
they didn’t know
they were waiting
it was just over
hopeless lifeless
less than expected
nothing could roll
away the sadness
it’s hard to stay here
somebody say something
how long can we live
without resolution?
Peace,
Milton
At one of the churches we served had a 24 hour prayer vigil on Easter Saturday. Our choir was assigned one of those hours. One of the sweetest memories I have is sitting with my friends singing our prayers and reflecting on His Love and sacrifice. I always felt like one of His disciples. Maybe they sang as well. Thank you for these wonderful Lenten devotions.
What I remember most about Lent and Holy Week was going with my Dad and visiting churches on Holy Thursday. The altars were beautifully decorated and glowing with soft light before the dark of the next day: Good Friday. The Passion of Christ was about to begin. I was the oldest, and my Dad brought only me. As he seemed (to me) to attend church in a perfunctory way, somehow this particular devotion was meaningful to him. We had few close experiences, but I am grateful for this one.