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Powerless and Needing Power

Are you as confused as I am about the day and the date? It’s all a blur and there is nothing to mark the passage of time except by the increasing daily numbers of coronavirus cases. People don’t go to work or school on weekdays; we don’t go out on…

 

The Journey to Easter Joy

Though the observance of Ash Wednesday, Lent and Holy Week was not part of my faith tradition growing up, today even Baptists mark the journey to the cross and on to the empty tomb. For me, this period on the church calendar marks the approach to the anniversary of Lev’s…

 

Commemorating Death, Hoping for Resurrection

For the past nine years—ten Easters now—I have observed the anniversary of Lev’s death in the midst of Easter anticipation and celebration. This is a time of year when the church calendar overrides those dates in April when Lev died and was buried…and when I assumed the unwanted role of…

 

Celebrating God of Daffodil and Fun

After the merriment of the Daffodil Festival on Saturday, on Sunday morning I headed up the hill to the First Congregational Church, as is my custom when I am on Nantucket. This is the place where I reclaimed joy after Lev’s death. This is the place where I found peace….

 

Time Out for Sabbath

I am tightly wound—more so than ever since I became a widow—and occasionally I feel as though my spring has sprung. My body is talking to me. I simply have to stop and shut down. Sunday morning was one of those days. After a restless night, I overslept. If I…

 

Solace or Sinkhole?

Part 2: The spiritual aspect of grief I was so smugly sure last week that I was prepared for Easter. I had taken precautions to avoid sinkholes, inviting family and friends to a big meal after church and spending the preceding days decorating my house and table, planning my menu…