A Responsorial Psalm for the Resurrection, An angel's words to Mary Magdalene

Before light dances on the dew, she has gathered her spices and fragrant oils for the journey.

Wrapping her arms around the jars, she steps carefully to avoid wayward roots in the dark.

To see him once more keeps tears from spilling out of eyes that have seen so much of life.

ALL:  Why do you seek the living among the dead?

Stopping abruptly, she has no answer nor can comprehend the one sitting in the burial place.

The cold hewn stones will offer no warmth; a faint scent of myrrh is almost a memory.

Brokenness hangs heavy in this room, offering only unspoken promises and unseen hope.

ALL:  Why do you seek the living among the dead?

It is to your credit you have wanted to fulfill your duty by anointing the body of your friend.

Here you will find only strips of linen, grave clothes without purpose that have come undone.

Your friend is not here, yet you are not abandoned. He has risen from the dead, his divine plan!

ALL:  Why do you seek the living among the dead?

This tomb holds nothing for you; it will neither sprout vegetables nor flowers for a window sill.

Take one last look at the rock, unchanged by natural rhythms of life. Let go of the burial spices.

The stone has been rolled away. The freshness of new life rushes in. Love overcomes all!

ALL:  Why do you seek the living among the dead?

Turn and walk into the garden where birds sing their early morning songs to welcome the day.

Buds burst forth in a flourish of color and the air is made sweet with their perfume.

There waits the Gardener. He knows your name. He has tended your heart from the beginning.

Go out into the garden and celebrate life! Amen.

a little bit of chocolate

Every year I try to come up with something new, something challenging to give up for Lent.

After I eliminate the idea of giving up coffee and Guinness, my coping mechanisms extraordinaire, I move on toward carbs and realize I have already greatly reduced them for health reasons. The main thing left is sugar.

I tell people that I give up chocolate, but sometimes I would pass up the chocolate pie and choose the lemon instead. Not this year. I gave up all "intentional" sugar. I say intentional because there is sugar in pretty much everything except for my coffee. And I will come clean and admit to a little maple syrup on pancakes at least once, some barbecue sauce that obviously contains high fructose corn syrup and finally, some apples and raisins cooked in sugar and butter because I could not bear to let them go to waste. I do what I can.

The funny e-cards circulating with the message: "I believe I'm getting closer to God by spending a few weeks not eating M&M's" miss the point, though they did make me remember my favorite catechism teacher, a man who was about to enter the priesthood when one day he fell in love with a woman who so captured his heart he ended up marrying her. Instead of entering the house of God, he would come home to a household full of children.

This catechism teacher would give up M&M's for Lent because he loved chocolate and those were among his favorites. Maybe because he had been taught to deny himself in a strict sense of the word, he would take the challenge one step further and place candy bowls of M&M's throughout his home, allowing himself to be reminded of the temptation each time he passed one of the bowls of brightly colored candies, there for the taking. He would then pause and thank Jesus for sacrificing himself.

I like to get rid of the temptation before Ash Wednesday if I can, but sometimes Valentine's Day, characterized by gifts of chocolate, can mess up my plans. In the back of the freezer are my stashed chocolates, if they are still there, with my sons, who did not give up chocolate, always on the lookout for something sweet since Mama is not making dessert during Lent. I also keep a large bag of chocolate chips in the freezer because they taste so much better frozen and whenever I need a little pick-me-up I can just reach into the bag for a handful of wonderfulness. During Lent I try not to open the freezer, which is difficult since that is where we keep the coffee beans, even though my husband makes the coffee most of the time; the frozen fruit with which I make my smoothies, without added sugar; and flour for baking. And yes, I did put the recommended tablespoons of sugar into the scones I made the other day, breaking both the sugar and carbs rule.

It is not about the food. The Scriptures even talk about what is considered clean and unclean, as dietary laws tend to be strict. But there is freedom in following the way, the truth, and the life. When we humble ourselves and make our pact with God for the forty plus days we are trying to give something up, he meets us where we are and strengthens our resolve. He knows me better than I know myself. I know that he knows that when I say I'm going to do something, that means I will try. He knows that most of the time I will fail. And at those times I will look up to heaven and be still and know that it is ok.

A popular idea is to do something during Lent instead of give something up, like chocolate. All good-natured teasing aside, giving up chocolate is not as easy as it may seem, especially for someone as in love with it as I am. My heart longs to do something for Lent, like provide funding for so many charitable pursuits, while my overdue bills, stacked neatly in a pile, await the next payday. I already give of myself to the youngest among us at my workplace, volunteer in several capacities at my church, and try to make the world a better place by apologizing for my wrongdoings, reaching toward mercy in the midst of judgment, and hope in the midst of despair. I seek to post pictures and quotes that will help those reading to experience a moment of peace, joy, or sense of knowing that I too have walked a rather rugged path and willingly place myself beside those who suffer and mourn.

Giving up a little bit of chocolate for about a month and a half does not get me closer to God. Seeking him everyday . . . does.

the right words

Words are everything to me and at 5 o'clock this morning I realized: I may have used the wrong ones.

This may explain the unrest and uneasiness following a recent conflict in which I became embroiled. Until I have communicated, I will keep trying--editing the conversation in my head, searching for the right words and the correct order in which to arrange them. It does not matter how poetic one is if the message shared falls among the rocks instead of penetrating the heart of the listener.

I wondered if the conversation could have been different if I had said "unteachable" instead of "will not take direction." Unteachable implies a state of not being able to be taught, perhaps by anyone, while not taking direction could be a failure on my part to give clear expectations.

If I had said "uncooperative" instead of "unwilling to communicate," a similar scenario is formed. An uncooperative person chooses not to get along with anyone whereas someone unwilling to communicate may not feel safe sharing her thoughts and ideas with me.

Or maybe the whole thing was doomed to failure from the beginning. For what purpose? I may never know.

Failure can be a heavy burden until I find the appropriate wire cutters to release myself from the ball and chain of regret that wants now to be my best friend. I cannot be too hasty since it is in moments of deepest pain that character is forged. I need to allow myself to feel deeply the angst, the anger--even if it is provoked--before giving it all a heave-ho into the abyss of forgetfulness. I will never forget certain affronts. I can only hope to forget how much they hurt.

Forgiveness comes to me from a source greater than me, producing in my heart something I cannot create on my own. I call him God. He knows my heart better than I know it myself and he has spent a great deal of my development healing it so he knows every wound. He forgives me. I then work at forgiving myself, which for me is far more difficult than forgiving someone else.

Conflict can be filled with irony. The action I may desire to take on another, causing her to fall apart emotionally, may be the exact thing she has already done to me. During the heat of the battle the tactics one uses can speak volumes. Emotional expression can be genuine or manipulative. Lack of emotional expression can indicate a hardness of heart or just plain weariness. Judgements are made in split-second intervals and before anyone can breathe, what has been said has been said. It cannot be taken back. Ever.

Apologizing is not the same as forgiving. I am often confused by an apology--especially the quick ones. Are you sorry for what you have done to hurt me or are you sorry it happened and you got caught?

The first words out of my mouth when I was in a car accident were "I'm sorry" which I would regret as the guy who totaled my mini-van fought back insisting that we were both at fault. What I had said became an admission of guilt. I was sorry it happened--that a guy had not taken the time to look in my direction even though I had the right of way. I am often sorry when someone chooses to do something to hurt me even though it is not deserved. I do not enjoy the conflict or the fallout afterward, as it forces me to expend my time and energy sweeping up the broken pieces of my heart and praying they can be put together. Again.

But if there is anything at all I have learned from conflict it is this: It will happen again. I will not harden my heart thinking I will protect myself next time. It will hurt. Lessons learned from old mistakes will fall by the wayside as new mistakes are made. We are human. We do the best we can and then we move on.

We can become teachable.

We can learn to cooperate.