Good Friday

I started the day in bed with a sore throat and a strained ankle (I fell down a few stairs yesterday - call me Grace). That in and of itself was a blessing. The little people slept in (until 7 AM) and DH took care of them for the next few hours.
Laying there, I debated whether or not to take my eldest to Good Friday services. I have not been since she was in the womb and I miss it dearly. It is such a moving time for me. Sometimes I struggle with "being there" during Mass but when I go to Good Friday, I am there, with the people, participating in the persecution of Christ. Yes I weep. A lot.

So, we went. She's 6 1/2 and is more than a bit restless but I guess she did OK. Even with her wiggles, this time was an even deeper experience for me. There is something so moving about watching your little one venerate the cross for the first time. She did a great job, very reverent. I'm happy I waited this long. I think she is in a place where she, at least from a child's perspective, "gets it".

She was even the optimist today (a huge change) asking me, "Are you OK, Mom?" "Yes," I said, "I'm just sad because Jesus died today." "Oh," she said. "But don't forget that he rose on Easter Sunday!"

I'm so glad to have her around to remind me that Sunday is coming. Perhaps I will try to remember that in all of my trials over the next few months ;)

Lastly, a good thought for today from my very favorite Cardinal!
"Why on Earth would we call this day Good?"

"The Earth quaked, so that we could be calm"...wonderful.