Palm Sunday

Today is the last day of Spring Break, and it has been a working Spring Break, waking up early, carpooling with a corporate-world friend of mine, which forced me to wake up and at least put up the appearances of working on my dissertation. I started and finished one chapter and started another. Sounds like a lot, put it’s only 14 pages. Baby steps and all.

I don’t feel like I’ve had a real break. What with the Hubby working in the home office, trying to make the new Linux box work, what with the weather mostly being cold and cloudy (until the tail end of the week), what with working on the dissertation like my second job, what with trying my damndest not to slip up on my Lenten observance (and I was good nearly all of this Lent, but these past few days have been hell…), a feel as if I have a little monkey in my chest, thrashing about, rattling the cage. Makes it hard to sleep.

To live one’s life without bias or motive. God, that’s so hard to do. I’m no saint, and it’s a sin of pride to believe that I’m with certainty heading for heaven or hell, and sometimes it’s hard to keep the faith when filled with all of this damn doubt. This coming week is Holy Week (Palm Sunday is today), this coming Friday is Good Friday, a day of fast, commemorating Christ’s Passion — his loneliness in the garden as his friends slept, his arrest, his trial, his scourging, his Crucifixion, his death…

Hard to believe in a joyous resurrection after a death like that. Hard to believe in an enduring faith when Christ’s own friend denied him. Hard to believe when, like Thomas, there is so much doubt. Hard to believe in the goodness of the world when one feels keenly one’s own fault, one’s own guilt, one’s own shame.

So, in this last day of Spring Break, which begins Holy Week, I see the finish line that is this marathon that is Lent, and I feel my spirits flagging, and I pray that I can keep my promise to God, to continue my Lenten observance, even as I begin to limp and run out of breath.


St. Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle,
be our defense against the wickedness
and snares of the devil;
may God rebuke him, we humbly pray,
and do thou
O Prince of the heavenly hosts,
by the divine power,
thrust into hell Satan
and all the evil spirits
who prowl about the world
seeking the ruin of souls.


About lizardqueen

If single-mothering were a paid job, I'd be rich. However, it doesn't, so I write (which doesn't pay the bills) and teach (which does). I'm overly-educated in the liberal arts, but that doesn't hinder my ability to be pragmatic and realistic. YAY.
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