
So tonight, some relatives arrived for a visit. As I type, there's six kids sleeping all over the floor in one bedroom, 2 parentals with a one year old babe in the other, and Jim snoring on the air mattress. We have plans to go to the beach, to church, to find wild alligators. I imagine this weekend will be just like that fair: a lot of noise, a lot of excitement, a lot of fun, and passing by in a blur, over way too soon.

And isn't that Holy Week, too? Things that aren't that different somehow seem exciting because of the light we shine on them, the attention we give to symbol and detail, the way we dive to the bottom of our own personal and communal suffering barrels... all to have it end in a mad rush of excitement and celebration on Sunday. It's a blur, but it only feels right, makes any sense or is any fun if our friends are nearby. And then we go back to normal life, except sometimes we have to adjust 'normal' to somehow include an understanding of this latest stuff.
But maybe that's not it at all, and maybe it's just where my head is right now. A very close friend of ours lost her mom last week. I can't stop praying for her. Thinking about everything- palm sunday, old fair visits- and trying to make it fit her new reality. How the life of our relationships are stretched and gathered and let loose... it may be that everyone else has or will someday go through this... but we are caught up in the newness of it all, along for the ride in the dark of night, looking for friends to help us through the apprehension.





