This Easter has been fun, filled with love and music and rich family moments. And I've been so grumpy. Not exactly at anyone, maybe not so other's would notice. But things have been more on my nerves than usual. People saying mean or rude things on Facebook. Inconsiderate drivers, slow cashiers, people being rude to slow cashiers. My son's 8 thousand inquiries into the "why's" of the most boring things on the planet, and his inability to tell me one interesting or useful thing he learned in school that day. And did I mention Facebook? Facebook has been really @#$$ing me off lately. Ridiculously so.
And none of it exactly has to do with Easter. But it doesn't exactly NOT have to do with it either.
The last several years of my life I got the opportunity to engage in a more traditional Easter experience. I went to Ash Wednesday services. I gave something up for Lent. I went to Good Friday services. I participated in the Stations of the Cross. I spent time reflecting on the sacrifice that I believe has saved me, and on the Savior I have come to love deeply in my 34 years. I reflected on the areas of my life experiencing death, and resurrection. I love to reflect. It's a part of who I am, to spend time thinking about what is symbolic all around me of the God I serve. I know not everyone likes to do that, not everyone is wired that way, so for some people it's a struggle. I hadn't noticed it being that for me, until this year.
That level of reflection didn't happen in my life this year. I could blame it on the fact that I'm in a different church culture right now and Easter isn't celebrated quite the same way…and that is part of it. A really little part of it. Because I'm in Tulsa, after all. Land of churches. Churches everywhere. So many churches. I could have found whatever services I wanted to, and probably only a mile or two away from home. I just. didn't. want. to.
I didn't want to reflect. I didn't want to think about what Jesus suffered. About how he was betrayed. About how humanity misunderstood. I didn't want to reflect on the deaths and resurrections in my life this year. Didn't want to think about where my heart is grieving and even where there have been new buds of life reaching up. I wonder if plants feel the pain like I do, breaking the soil as they spring up, stretching as they unfold into spaces they've never been, into shapes they've never been.
I don't feel like I've been hiding, or withdrawing particularly in my life. I know that's something I need to look out for. But being "non" reflective…that's not something I know to look out for, or something I particularly know what to do with. I wonder if it's one of those times in life when I should leave it alone, and let it run it's course. Back to the plant analogy, seeds that are germinating end up losing their "seed" essence under ground. They lose who they are for a while as the necessary changes are happening so they can become much more. If they thought about what was happening to them in that moment without understanding what was coming, it would probably look disastrous. Certainly uncomfortable in their "skin" considering their skin was becoming inadequate to contain them.
I feel a bit…underground. Uncomfortable in my skin. Not dead, not even dying. But not exactly myself.