Sunday, April 5, 2015

Easter Weekend


So grateful for some slow.

After a very busy and tiring few weeks - a season of working hard and driving a lot and
eating different foods and supporting an HSC student and trying to keep on top of things at home and whole lot of other things,
it is bliss to be able to slow down a little.


On Friday we remembered Christ's death.
This year I am struck anew at what Jesus endured, and how unworthy
I am to receive his gift of life, bought through his death.

I broke my diet with these paleo hot cross buns. (Don't tell my nutritionist)
Which looked and smelt the thing but were an interesting texture, something like a shortcake. But to one currently deprived of baked goods and sweet foods they were amazing and very much enjoyed, while watching We Bought a Zoo, and over the next day until finally they disappeared - baked to boiled eggs and avocado snacks for me.

Yesterday we celebrated my Dad's birthday with family, while outside
rain poured down. More breaking of the diet. Last night we enjoyed Chariots of Fire, the first time the girls had seen it.

Today I woke and read John 19, about the empty tomb, and Jesus appearing to the women, and to his disciples. For the first time in years, excitement bubbled up in me at the story of Jesus' rising, his power over death.


The sunshine after the rain was a promise of a great day.
Another church service, with old friends and new, to celebrate together.
 

I arrived home to the smell of roast lamb, Steve had started it cooking in a slow oven
while we were out. I sat on the sofa, feeling slow again, enjoying my first square of chocolate in a long time - a pure chocolate and coconut nectar variety. An Easter treat, with permission of my nutritionist!

I set the table, using a white damask cloth that belonged to my mother-in-law.
Steve took out the lamb to rest before carving. I picked flowers and decorated the table for Easter,
looking forward to a family meal.


But alas, Laura turned a cartwheel in the living room while
we served up the dinner, banged a foot into my occasional table (that I use for morning and afternoon tea every day), smashed it, and then was so upset that she refused to join us at dinner, or later.
The three of us were left to enjoy our dinner as best as we could.
Later Steve and I played music together, and I went for a walk in the sunshine.
Two good things, but not what we had envisaged for the afternoon.


Life is not perfect, is it?

Jesus has power over death, and I trust in that,
but we still have to deal with the nitty-gritty -
the broken table, the gravy that isn't right (and sticks to everything!),
the rifts between people, a bedroom door that stays shut.
I'm not so great at all that - at knowing when to act, and when to let things lie.
Or at dealing with the frustrations when my plans don't work,
or others suffer because of the actions of one.
Or coping with seasons of extreme busyness that leave me
unwilling to do anything but curl into a ball and look after myself.


It feels like it's time to process all these thoughts,
the slurry of all that happened in March, and the expectation of new things ahead,
to pray and to listen better to God, to learn from Him and others,
to close out the world for a bit and focus on family, resting, reading, and being slow.


We have nothing planned for tomorrow, which is a rare thing.
We're looking forward to a holiday together soon.
With the end of daylight saving* last night , the sun has set already at 5.30, 
the next season of cosy dark evenings has begun.


Soon I'll be standing by a lakeside photographing sunsets over the water;
being slow, and wishing I could bottle that for the rest of the year.

I hope you've had a slow Easter too.

* * *

*Yesterday I found out that it's 'daylight saving', not 'daylight savings'. Who knew?