Upon a Sunny Day

Easter week. I haven’t made it a habit, as of late, to write about the spiritual. Except that I believe everything is spiritual. Everything important anyway. Everything we feel and hope for. And that’s generally what I write about. But specific mention of a spiritual journey. I’ve abstained from that for a while. Mainly because again, I believe everything is spiritual and goes without mentioning. I also believe one’s relationship with God is personal. Corporate situationally, sure. But I have no obligation to share. Except with those in which I choose.

This week though. It’s Holy Week. And those who practice the season of Lent will wrap up here in a few days. I’m not the best practitioner. This year. I have been in the past. Oh, I’ve focused on it this time around. Gone to an Ash Wednesday service. And a special Lenten service in between. I didn’t give up anything though. I don’t regret that so much. I’m not mad at myself. At times I’ve added something to my routine. Instead of subtracting or abstaining. My kids asked me. At the beginning of the season. “What are you giving up?” I told them. Truthfully. Nothing this year. My daughter mentioned. “You added something one year, right?” I answered. Truthfully. Yes. Yes, I did. But not this year. It’s interesting. In that my children are not celebrants in the Lenten season. Yet they’re curious as to what I’m doing.

I did order a book. By one of my favorites. Richard Rohr. He’s a Catholic priest. I know. I know. I’m not Catholic. But I enjoy his writing. So I have utilized a Lenten devotional he wrote. It’s been good. Have I kept up each day? Nope. But I’ve focused. For the most part. Thought about where we are in the year.

Easter is my favorite holiday. Well, I like Thanksgiving a lot too. But Easter happens in spring and it symbolizes redemption and reconciliation. The colors. Pastel and soft. The flowers. The hope of a new, warm season. Rebirth.

This time around. What’s a new thought? Even though I’ve known the Easter story for forty plus years?

I’m a person.

Alright. That’s obvious, correct? Unless you thought I was an alien. But focus for just a minute. On this. I’m a human. You’re a human. We’re all humans. Easter is the celebration of the moment when the divine crashed into the human. Divinity. Humanity. Newsflash. We are not divine. We are people. Human beings.

I have realized, so much so, the last weeks. I am created to be. Emotional. Feeling. Happy at times. Sad at others. My heart can break. And I make mistakes and missteps. Because I was created to be a person. I forget things. I remember some. I become angry. At injustice and at people who are rude. I have opinions and thoughts which are unique to me.

During this season. Forty days give or take. I have come to the conclusion. God created me to be a person. Not a mini God. Not as a divine creature wondering around the planet without fault. I am human therefore corrupt and fallible. Please don’t get judgmental and tell me…well, you can’t just do whatever. Obviously not. What reasonable person believes that? But let’s be real. I didn’t ask for this. Any of it. I was placed here. Miraculously. Sure. Part of a plan. And I fully trust God is orchestrating a beautiful story. But I am a passenger on a ride I didn’t book myself.

So I believe accepting the whole scenario is the best idea. Don’t yell at myself for my imperfections. My quirks and faults. Strive for the best? Sure. Of course. Yes! But realize I am not responsible for the entire outcome of eternity. Why would the divine put the human in charge of that responsibility? That role? Way too big for any of us. That’s why he took care of it once and for all. I’m to do my part. Work and trust and convince others to do their part as well. But rest assured in the end. I am not more than I am. What’s ahead, in the eternity we consider, is beyond me. I simply do not know what I will be. If you do, you probably don’t really. You just think. Because who possibly could?

I am content. To be me because who else could I be? Me, the person. The person with a role to play in the grand scheme. But not much more. None of us are.

I look forward to the finale. The season coming to an end. The celebration. Victory over death. The symbolism. The reality. The tear right down the center of the curtain that means everything changed in a moment. Interesting thought though. The characters who were people. Were still people after the moment of change. Once human…always human. Except for ONE. The only one who chose to come here. Of his own accord. That’s the difference, I suppose. And the reason I will celebrate.