I heard a priest say the other day that Holy Week is like traveling day by day, hour by hour with Christ on his journey from The Last Supper to The Resurrection. It kind of brings the story into real time. I like that. It kind of explains why Holy Week is so powerful, dramatic, emotional.
In other news, it's likely that I won't be attending Holy Week services again for a few years. My husband volunteers as MC for our services, which means I am left to wrangle the child alone. And it's HARD. Especially on Thursday night. 7:30 p.m. is not a good time for small children to behave in church. Tonight's Vigil Mass is, of course, out of the question. 8:30 p.m.? Please! As if. And if we have another little one by next year? I think the decision will be out of my hands.
That said, I do miss attending the Vigil. It is the height of the Church year. It's like this amazing drama where we tell the story of Christianity through all the extra readings and rituals. Love it.
Olivia is running back and forth between her bedroom window and the front door windows, watching Daddy as he puts fertilizer on the lawn. It's high entertainment, let me tell you. And it's the only reason that I have two minutes to type this.
Oops...she has spotted me on the computer. Blogging time is over.