In many ways, our holidays, seasons, even those created by the Church are a construct. They have their own rhythm and pacing and whether or not we want to move forward, minutes, hours, days march on. I myself am feeling a little stuck this Easter. I am stuck hanging out by the tomb.
Last Sunday, my church community partied! There were trumpets and cymbals and special rituals all over the place. I celebrated too during those hours. Its hard not to get caught up when everyone around you is smiling and singing and rejoicing. But later, after all the sugar wore off and the songs were too distant to hear anymore, I noticed that my heart was still sunk. I noticed that what had stayed with me from that morning’s scripture was that haunting line from John’s gospel in which Mary Magdalene responds regarding her weeping that, “they have taken my Lord and I do not know where to find him.”
I know that moments later in the story the gardener, who is really Jesus, calls out her name and everything changes. But for now, I am stuck on my knees, in a puddle of my own tears by the empty tomb. I, like I am sure you do, recognize that feeling of being bereft, alone and confused. But why am I being asked to pay attention here right now? What is Spirit saying to me? ‘I am not grieving I say to myself. I am happy. I am busy. My life right now is the good kind of full.’
But in writing a note to a friend describing my confusion over my Easter blahs, it comes to me. In three short weeks our youngest child, our baby, is graduating from college. This time she is really leaving me…she will graduate, move away and never come back the same way she has in the past. She will literally have her own life apart from me. No wonder I am in a puddle.
And then I came upon this poem by Jan L. Richardson…
Seen
You had not imagined
that something so empty
could fill you
to overflowing
and now you carry
the knowledge
like an awful treasure,
or like a child
that roots itself
beneath your heart:
how the emptiness
will bear forth
a new world
that you cannot fathom
but on whose edge
you stand.
So why do you linger?
You have seen
and so you are
already blessed.
You have been seen
and so you are
the blessing.
There is no other word
you need.
There is simply
to go
and tell.
There is simply
to begin.
My heart leaps when I read this poem….”a new world you cannot fathom.” Oh, what a promise! And…”you have been seen and so you are the blessing.”
So now Divine One, You have my attention–You have called my name. I think you are trying to tell me not to cling to what has been. We are no longer there, rather we are here. We take all that came before with us and we begin this new thing. Whatever this new thing will be, all we need do is simply begin.
minetodo 
Hi Linda,
Thank you for your posting. It was so beautifully written. I too have been feeling grief this Easter season and your words were both comforting and encouraging.
I read this daily meditation recently, which made me think of your posting and I thought you might enjoy it.
“There is a Calvary-Cross on which one hangs alone, untended by even the nearest and dearest. But beside that Cross, there stands another, and to My dear ones I say little, I hang there afresh beside each one through the hours of the heart’s agony.” – A.J. Russell
You are not alone, my sister.
Looking forward to seeing you soon, Ann
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I love that quote!!! Arriving late tuesday–clearing out garage—yuk!!!