It's Easter -- Bah Humbug.

First, there was drama about the ties.

Then a lack of dress shoes.

But I have a memory of all 5 boys and their daddy in matching outfits just like this one.

And I have a shot of Schmoopie shaking his Easter M&M's.

Phew!

Good Friday

Our Triduum Shrine:  A candle for Holy Thursday, when Christ first gave us himself as the Paschal Lamb on Passover -- the night he instituted the Holy Eucharist.  Another candle for Good Friday, the day we remember His Passion.  And then another for Easter, His Resurrection.

We have a tomb made of a lightbulb box covered with sod.  A decent-sized stone couldn't be found, so we used a sweet potato.

Blessed Triduum.

Praying the Stations With My Kids

Some people think its gory or that they're too young,
but I see it in their eyes,
they sense the transcendence.

I wasn't raised in a Christian tradition that recognized the Liturgical year,
except on Christmas Day and then again on Easter Day.
The two popped up suddenly.  I always felt so unprepared.
And then they were gone, leaving behind only messes of wrapping paper
and emptied plastic eggs.

The year my husband began his sojourn into the traditional Church,
Lent prepared me for Easter in a way I hadn't expected.
I was only an observer then.
And I must say, the Season has truly grown on me.
I seem to "get it" a little more each year.

We'll be praying the stations tonight at our local parish because
"You cannot have a feast without a fast."

And you cannot have the the Resurrection without the Cross.

Took a Walk on Tuesday

And tried to fall into the stream.

Oh My Ezra -- I am Equally Enamored and Exhausted by You

My Baby, My Love.

Goop

Dear Gwyneth,

In regard to the Conscientious Uncoupling, I feel badly for you.  I really do.  That's why I'm writing.  Because, you see, it just won't work.

I know it's mostly none of my business.  I say "mostly" because we all certainly affect one another. That's why we have road signs with speed limits.  That's why so many people juice kale and flax seeds after reading about it in your newsletter.

I don't know the details of your separation, but I'm sure they're painful.  I'm sure you're suffering.  For this, I'm truly sorry.  You and your family are in my prayers.

Many people think my religion, old school Catholicism, is cruel for not allowing divorce.  However, I argue that it's truly kind.  Because, you see, divorce doesn't exist.  Neither does Conscientious Uncoupling.

Look around.  Look at all the couples who made vows, babies and then later signed a paper to dissolve it all.  Did it work?  No. Lives don't unwind once they're one, and we're reminded of it every birthday, graduation, holiday, funeral and wedding.  Even doctor's appointments, sporting events and stupid nonsensical non-events like buying a first dollhouse or losing a tooth catch the collateral crap of parents who won't work it out.

For generations.

If there's abuse or infidelity of any kind, please separate.  It's your duty.

If you just can't stop fighting, again, separate even for years if you must.

But please don't think signing a paper will uncouple you, or free you to recouple with someone else, conscientiously or not.

It will only breed absurdity, step-relationships (that really suck almost all of the time) and more pain.

Instead of divorce, I kindly suggest you do three things.

First, pray more.  

Second, survey your husband.  Focus on what he is.  And then totally ignore what he is not -- easier said than done, I know.  I'm not saying you ignore abuse or infidelity, but I already covered that.  Accept the man at face value.   Realize that it is only God's grace working through you that will make your husband into whom he's supposed to be (one day).  And vice versa.

Third: Be kind(er).  If you're at all normal, you save your very worst self for your spouse.  So, try not to do that.  Instead, be kind.  If you're already doing that, be kinder.

Gwyneth, I doubt you'll ever read any of this.  But if you or another wife does, please take these thoughts I've gathered in the trenches of my own marriage as the humble offerings of a servant in prayer.        

With Warmth, Concern, Care and Admiration,

Sarah    

Barefoot Boys on the Deck

Welcome Spring!  

So long shoes!