Noted #12

purgation, buried alleluias, spring, and troughs

Greetings from the stomach flu Armageddon. We are still kicking. Barely.

I’m sure we’re not the only ones dealing with our fair share of Lenten miseries, but this has been purgation to the nth degree. I jest, but it’s actually quite alarming to see your children this sick, and we’ve had our hands full with laundry, washing bowls, and trying to coax people to sip little bits of fluid, and attempt nibbles of toast. Since we’re not going anywhere soon, these thoughts are my grasp at sanity in between drink deliveries and switching the movie¹. Pray for those of us standing to remain unaffected please.

buried alleluias

I think we want to look away from death. I gulp every Ash Wednesday when my children are marked with ashes. This piece from Lyndsey Medford was honest and beautiful. Rest in peace, Eva Joan.

But I am glad to be in Lent because it’s not a time for knowing. It’s a time for waiting, watching, witnessing. For five damn seconds to quit rejoicing, because the truth is death comes before resurrecti…