No agenda. No big point to make. This probably only applies to me, anyway.
I’m not remotely ready for Holy Week.
The fact is I’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed the last few weeks, for a whole lot of reasons. I don’t like all that whelming. Far too much whelming lately.
Last week I spoke 5 times in 3 days at Eastern University’s annual “Faith Forum.” I spoke on my soon-to-be-released book The Sin of Certainty. I did indeed have a wonderful time with the talking part, but the prep part was one big fat whelm.
And I’m speaking clear across the country in a couple of weeks. Again: speaking = fun; prep and travel time = 2 whelms.
And I’m behind in grading and am sort of generally winging everything.
And there’s this fence I’ve been needing to get done, like, yesterday.
And my wonder dog Gizmo got skunked and brought it into the house so I had to deskunk him and do laundry for 2 days while catching up with school stuff and planning a fence. Several days of whelming.
And I helped my daughter move into an apartment.
And wouldn’t you know it, new seasons of House of Cards and Daredevil are ready to binge watch—plus The Walking Dead, Better Call Saul, and The Vikings. When Game of Thrones starts up again I’m not sure how it’s all going to work out. And don’t get me started on March Madness and spring training baseball games on my phone or laptop whenever I want.
And why does all this have to happen around Easter? Why can’t Holy Week be in a useless month like February—in the 2 weeks between the Superbowl and when pitchers and catchers report.
Anyway, I could go on. My point is that it’s all been a bit too much lately, and I’m trying very hard to do what I know I need to do . . .
stay in the moment, and
seek the Spirit’s presence when and where I am, regardless.
So on a day when I don’t really feel like blogging, I’m blogging telling you why.
Getting into Easter mode at the moment is hard—like it’s another thing to do. But again, I’m probably the only one. Everyone else has their act together.
And yet, I’m pretty sure that Easter is relevant at times like this, intruding into my many whelms, trying to remind me that Easter isn’t just another thing to do. It’s not even just a yearly time of reflection.
It’s a pattern of living that offers a release from feeling overwhelmed—a daily pattern of living of losing your life to find it, of dying and rising.
I’m still finding my way there.