a good Good Friday

Mushrooms Like Easter Eggs
My cute little mushrooms remind me of Easter Eggs!
I actually dyed eggs like this once--speckled the eggs first with white crayon
so that the wax resisted the food coloring and made polka-dotted Easter Eggs.

- - - - - - - 
Today was a good day. A really good day, in fact. Nothing extraordinary happened, but the spring breeze blew from one end of the apartment to the other--what the Germans call "Durchzug" ("Zug" is "train" and "durch" means "through" . . . it's not a literal translation, but there you go)--and tiny colored eggs perched on branches in gardens and window-boxes all over the neighborhood almost rivaled the freshly blooming flowers as they caught the sunlight and tinkled slightly in the wind. My girls thrived too on the fresh air, zooming around like the giant bumble bees that are thick in the air this spring, twirling, laughing, squealing with joy when Daddy served as one-man amusement park and climbing-wall.

Today was a normal day, but somehow the air crackled with joy and it felt so good just to be living and breathing, even if I was only doing the wash, hanging out the laundry, listening to the happy noise of running water and clanking dishes--Hubby home and sharing the housework. But in my mind I still grasped for something significant to do or to say on this Holy Day, some way to acknowledge the hard work of the Cross, to remember the sadness His friends must have felt during those few days they thought they had lost Jesus and their hope and their faith forever. My college always had a Good Friday service that ended with a solemn tolling of the bell, 33 times for each year in Christ's life. The service would end in silence, and we'd all shuffle out of the chapel feeling depressed . . . and sometimes a little like laughing because it was one of those moments when laughter would be entirely inappropriate, and thus threatens, inexplicably, to break the calm surface of solemnity.

And so it was that again today, on the solemn day of Good Friday, joy spilled over in my heart and I felt nothing but happiness. It's because the rebirth of spring has begun all around us; because (and as a still-new mom I am all-too-aware of this) the night does not last forever; because Sunday is on it's way and I already know the end of the story. Even so, I am prepared to be surprised--again and again--by joy.


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