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holy week
A friend and co-worker remarked to me the other day that I seem to have been simply "enduring the days" for the past month or so. She said that I looked weary, a word that I had used to describe my recent state of mind. I'll not bore you with the details because..well, they're all there in the archives past where I wrote them out during cathartic sessions on the keyboard. Compared to some folks, my life has been a piece of cake. Gratitude is a behavior that is so meshed into my personality that it's hard to shake, even when times are tough. Times have been tough on Pecan Lane for several years.

Aw, it's nothing as dramatic as a tornado or hurricane or some other disaster that would make the evening news. I'm fortunate that the landlord doesn't kick me out when I get behind, but he knows I'm doing my best and that's all he has ever asked of me...to give it my all. The really hard times have been about letting go in love and trusting that good things come to those who have faith. I can only imagine what it was like for the carpenter's son to do the foot washin' and share a last meal with his crew knowing what lay ahead for all of them. Whippings and thorns and nails. Persecution for the believers. Thy will be done.

He washed their feet knowing that one would betray Him that night. The rest of them had done it in other ways during the week of days between the palm strewn entry to downtown and that last gathering of the faithful for supper and wine. I've read that they all fell asleep when He only asked them to keep him company in his agony and fear. Can you imagine that??

Sometimes I get tired of keepin' on keepin' on, but then I have no choice. It's just lonely sometimes when there's nobody to help with the load. Maybe we should all pick up somebody else's cross and carry it awhile. In my humble opinion, it seems to put things in perspective.

It also makes one weary.

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