I haven’t written lately. I’ve been waiting for some sort of inspiration. Well… maybe inspiration isn’t the right word. An idea? A worthy thought?
When I write, it’s not always because I’m feeling inspired. More often, I’m having some sort of internal debate. Or I’m obsessing about something and I need to get it out. Usually, when I sit down at my computer, I at least have an IDEA. Sometimes, it’s a fully-fleshed out blog post in my head and I just have to get it on paper. Often, it’s just a topic; an observation or a rant … and I’m not quite sure where the writing will take me.
But sometimes, there is no idea. Sometimes it’s just been too long and I feel the words building up inside of me. Journaling helps. But it doesn’t always do the trick. Because if I’m really honest, it’s much more rewarding to write something that other people might read.
I had a writing teacher in middle school who once told me, “If you can’t think of an idea, just write, ‘I don’t know what to write’ over and over again. Something will come to you. And at least you’re writing!” At the time, I thought it was stupid. But I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten better advice.
Now, instead of ‘I don’t know what to write,’ I’ll start by describing my surroundings. Maybe I’ll add in a stream of consciousness. It might not even be complete thoughts. I’ll jot down words and phrases. I’ll write terrible sentences, knowing they’ll never be read. But I have to start. Sometimes it turns in to something presentable. More often, it becomes part of the collection of half-written musings in my ‘draft’ folder.
That’s the kind of day that today is. I don’t have an idea or a topic. I certainly don’t have a fully formed blog in my brain. Today I just have a cup of coffee and a few extra minutes and a desire to put words into sentences.
I’m not sure if these feelings point to typical writer’s block, or if they’re a symptom of a more pervasive, societal lethargy. Everyone I talk to is just… tired. I don’t have to tell you. You know. We’re tired of homeschooling and social distancing and wearing masks and missing our family and our friends. We’re just TIRED.
And there’s something deflating about a SECOND Easter without. Without church. Without tradition. Without family gathering. Without the fanfare and celebration.
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I’ve always loved Holy Week. As we conclude the Lenten season, we’re reflective and aware of ourselves as being flawed and human and capable of better. And Holy Week gives us permission to slow down and really sit with ALL of our emotions. We don’t gloss over the hard parts. We study them. We FEEL them. Betrayed. Persecuted. Forsaken. Crucified. But to get to the end of this journey, it is our responsibility to move through all of it. If we skip from the parade celebration of Palm Sunday right to the joy of Easter, we’re missing the point.
Holy Week starts with the anticipation and enthusiasm of Palm Sunday. It moves to the uncertainty and confusion of Maundy Thursday. The sanctity and sacrament of the last supper. Then we feel the deep, heavy, tragedy of Good Friday. And finally, the joy of Resurrection Sunday.
But what about that Saturday? TODAY is that in-between day that we don’t know what to do with. This Holy Saturday isn’t marked by a church service. It’s not celebrated with a liturgy. Today is the day after the tragedy but before the joy. We cannot deny that there has been great suffering. We can see to tomorrow; we know that joy will be upon us soon. But today? Today we can only feel our feelings and wait.
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Yeah. Holy Week has a different meaning this year. We have spent the last year moving through the hard parts. The fear, the confusion, the uncertainty. The grief, the sadness, the frustration.
And this spring? This spring is the Saturday before Easter.
We can’t celebrate yet, but we can see it. The mood is changing. The air is shifting. There is hope. There is optimism. Tomorrow, there will be joy.
Hallelujah.