For The First Sunday of Lent:
"Sundays are actually "in" Lent but not "of" Lent. Sundays aren't counted in the 40 days because Sunday is always a "little Easter." Try shouting for joy somewhere, sometime today because it’s a "little Easter."
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Happy little Easter. I like this idea. Every Sunday as a "little Easter". Sunday, like no other day in the week, is set aside for rest, reflection and restoration. Of course in modern day life, it has become the go-to-Costco-wash-the-car-mow-the lawn-do-the-laundry-fit-in-church-if-you-can-bath-the-dog-clean-the-toilet-day mainly because we modern types have gotten so busy during the week already multi-tasking between work and home and school and hobbies if we have them, that we don't have much time to just sit and ponder. We can't just "do nothing" it seems, without wondering what we should be doing.
But little Easter. It is the day when you can "die" to everything that has kept you from meditating. It is a time when you can "lay in the tomb" all those things that just aren't working for you. And then it is when you can "resurrect" yourself to all that is holy within you. You can be reborn and renewed. Easter can be every Sunday if you set your intention to make it so.
On the way to church this morning I was slightly miffed that I had not been invited to a certain party I heard about. That only compounded the nose being out of joint about another party list my name did not appear on. Sure, I was invited to another party...but did I think about all the times I sat home alone and didn't know anyone who was having a party? Of course not!
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"I tawht I taw a puddy cat. I'm so mwiffed." Elmer Fudd |
On top of that, I just a bit stressed over having to do coffee hour when I was sure I had signed up for altar flowers. Surely I would not have signed up for coffee hour because this was the weekend of my late mother's birthday. I know I intended to do the flowers in her honor. I remember thinking that as I signed on the sign up sheet. But sure enough, I had affixed my name to the wrong list. And I went ahead and did the goodies for coffee hour, etc., with less than a joyous heart. Shame on me, I said, but, well, I was, as I said already miffed and this just miffed me more.
But of course church changed all that. The music, the inspiriing words from the pulpit, the thank you's for my home-baked cookies, even the compliments on the fairly tasteless lemonade. Di-miffed and moving on. A sort of resurrection of spirt. An Easter moment.
Oh, if only I could remember to lay to rest the urge to travel down those side streets that take me no where! The highway is the high way, eyes on the prize, you know, all that jazz that reminds you that only you can prevent forest fires...I mean, only you can choose what you think and where you are headed. Letting go and letting God, your higher power, the Universe guide you, that is what it means to have a little Easter. And little Easters can happen any time...not just Sundays!
Now there's a state of mind I am ready to work toward achieving.
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http://www.texaschapbookpress.com/ magellanslog53/primrosepath.htm *If you choose to go to this website, don't be put off by the first question. It really is all in fun. |
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