Day 42: Preparing for Easter

 

I am soooo tired after good Friday,  I've dragged myself to "It is finished. " I want to wake up the next morning to "He is risen." But Saturday is a vigil.  It is the empty space between death and resurrection.  It is timeless,  numb. A cloudy day after the storm on Friday before the sun shines on Easter morning. 

I peel myself out of bed and my mind starts to fill with all the preparation to be done - baking,  church clothes,  house cleaning.  My vigil day is laundry and baking.  Chores. 

A friend sent me a liturgy for holy Saturday.  

God is silent. 

"The silence of God is God."

I bake cinnamon rolls thinking about silent God. Thinking about my desire to skip straight to Easter.  Thinking about this gap between death and resurrection. Something ended,  something new not yet begun.  

I listened to "unimaginable " from Hamilton. 

It's quiet uptown. 

There are moments that the words don't reach

There's a grace too powerful to name

We push away what we can never understand

I grate carrots for carrot cake. I mix spices in.  I peel over ripe bananas and mash them into a bowl. 

I think about brokenness.... situations that have traveled with me this Lent and these lines --   Moments where words don't reach and a grace to powerful to name -- the silence of God on this holy vigil.  

I fill muffin tins.  I frost the cinnamon rolls.  I put the laundry in the dryer and get ready for bed.  

I lay down tonight holding on to that grace -- too powerful to name.  

The silence of God is God.