Crown and Bough

Thursday, 13 April 2017

Holy Week

It's Holy Thursday.   I'm standing in the kitchen with my bullet journal open and no idea what to do.   But there is a lot to do.  So much, in fact, before Easter, and the dent I've put in that to-do list isn't worth calling the insurance company over.  I'm already stressed, anxious about my ultimate failure, slow and inevitable like a melting glacier.  Can I please just skip ahead to the Alleluia, wake up on a sunny Paschal morning with the dishes sparkling in the drying rack and the outfits laid out clean and crisp to put on for Mass?  I'm not ready.  I'm not prepared.  I don't even know where to begin.

So maybe today, I'll just ignore the to-do list.  I mean, do things if I feel so moved, but channel my energy into being present, even imperfectly so, even if I fall asleep.  On just waiting and watching and praying in the Garden.  All I have to bring is me.  All I have to do is be.

I think I can do that.  I think it'll be okay.

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