He is risen!
How I wish I could have been there.
So many emotions. So many events crammed into one day.
I went to Resurrection Day service at my little church.
My daughter and her husband attended services at their church, and then went to dinner at their friends house.
My son spent the day with his girlfriend and family.
My niece, her boy friend and my great niece spent the day with his family.
I was invited to my brother's house. For the most incredible prime rib! My brother knows how to do a prime rib!
But I had a low grade sadness pulling at me all day. I could feel my old friend, the "D" word pulling at my sleeve. Trying to get my attention.
I felt the absence of the family members that were not there.
But not today, I told depression. It is Easter! I am with family! My daughter is having a baby girl!
I forced myself to be in the moment and pay attention to those who were present.
I wonder if others feel this way on this day. I love the dark introspective days of Lent. I loved immersing myself in the pain and suffering of Jesus on the cross. And hearing yet again his last words to his disciples at the Last Supper and giving him the commandment to love one another, as he washed their feet.
I had a thought in church. My faith is weakest in confidence in the future.
You see, after Jesus rose, it was inevitable that he would leave us. To ascend to heaven to be with God the Father.
He told us He will come again. But suddenly, I am afraid. I feel abandoned. Like a child again. With a distant father.
I have a strong connection to the Jesus that was born to a virgin. Who walked the earth, humbly, healing the sick, feeding the poor, loving and teaching. That Jesus is very real to me.
And the suffered he endured. The humiliation. The betrayal. That feels so real too. My heart is still hurting. Tears well up behind my eyes as I type this.
But now, he has risen! That is a glorious miracle! Why am I not more joyful!
We sang "Because He Lives" in church. I cried big, hot tears the whole time. I wanted to curl up in a ball and sob.
Why was I not jumping up and down and celebrating? After church, I slid out the side door before anyone could ask me what my plans were. Before any well meaning members could offer me a ride somewhere as they usually do.
I needed to walk. To be alone with my pain. I went to lunch. I read a bit. My heart felt heavy.
But then I got up and headed to my brother's house. Where I could be Aunt Zita, where I could be part of my family. Where I was needed. Where I wouldn't feel abandoned. Even as I saw my father, weakened from his Parkinson's disease sitting silently on the sofa. My earthly father who was always so distant, but now is so dependent on us. And my bands around my heart loosened.
You see, aside from my spiritual angst, today was a good day spent with the family that met for dinner at my brother's house.
I had an interesting conversation with my nephew. The young man who helped me move. Who loves pho as much as I do!
He finally opened up a bit about his social anxiety. My brother had asked him about his job search. And the suggestion of counseling to address his social anxiety.
At that point, I shared with him my own history of extreme shyness and social anxiety. I told him I used to be petrified of recitals, public speaking and dinner parties. But I learned to play a role. Acting friendly and positive. And after time, the fear subsided. I am still an introvert. I enjoy my own quiet company. My best friends are books. But I have found a social personality that works pretty well for me without making other people feel uncomfortable. Most of the time.
I told him I also really enjoy family and spending time with people one on one. We talked about what kind of work he was interested in. My brother and mother joined in the conversation. It was very supportive. And loving.
I volunteered to help him with his resume. I am good with resumes. And interviews. He was listening. I feel hopeful for him. I have been concerned about his social anxiety for some time. Especially if he feels trapped by it.
Interestingly, the last several times I have spent time with him, he has been quite the conversationalist. Perhaps he just needs some loving supporting family members and a lot of practice!
I also spent some time with my little 9 year old niece and her friend at the nearby park. We sat at a picnic table and looked at some books we found in the free neighborhood lending library.
Out of the blue, my niece looked up and said "Aunt Zita, we went to church today. My first time ever!"
She had gone with her friend and her family. To a very large church full of music and big festivities for Easter. I asked her if she had fun. She said she did. Then I asked if they understood the meaning of Easter.
What followed was a precious conversation.
"Easter is about God", said her friend.
"Yes. And then God dies", said my niece.
I asked them if they knew who Jesus was.
"He helped sick people and a blind guy", said her friend.
We talked about the life of Jesus. His teaching. And the crucifixion. And the resurrection. They seemed very interested.
It warmed my heart to share my faith with them.
Then my niece said, "Oh and then God did something to some animals too. I read about it in the bible book you gave me".
So then we talked a bit about Noah. Then they ran back to the picnic table to finish their book and snacks.
Yes, I wish my daughter, husband and baby in the belly had been there. Yes, I was missing my son. And my other niece and my grandniece.
But tomorrow is "Pho" Monday. I will focus on the rest of the family then.
And I will focus on taking care of myself. And I will try to wrap my head and heart around the risen Jesus.
This is where I am in my walk. This is where I will pick up tomorrow.
I am looking forward to deep sleep.
Tomorrow is a brand new day. I will once again focus on whole foods. Much water. Prayer. And more exercise.
And on that note, I wish you all a good night.
Today, my fruit of the spirit that I focused on was "generosity". I have learned that when I am hurting emotionally, I heal when I can be there for others.
I was. And the "D" word has retreated.
Take that D word!
He has risen and so have I!
Happy Sunday!
Talk to you tomorrow.
Love,
Zita
How I wish I could have been there.
So many emotions. So many events crammed into one day.
I went to Resurrection Day service at my little church.
My daughter and her husband attended services at their church, and then went to dinner at their friends house.
My son spent the day with his girlfriend and family.
My niece, her boy friend and my great niece spent the day with his family.
I was invited to my brother's house. For the most incredible prime rib! My brother knows how to do a prime rib!
But I had a low grade sadness pulling at me all day. I could feel my old friend, the "D" word pulling at my sleeve. Trying to get my attention.
I felt the absence of the family members that were not there.
But not today, I told depression. It is Easter! I am with family! My daughter is having a baby girl!
I forced myself to be in the moment and pay attention to those who were present.
I wonder if others feel this way on this day. I love the dark introspective days of Lent. I loved immersing myself in the pain and suffering of Jesus on the cross. And hearing yet again his last words to his disciples at the Last Supper and giving him the commandment to love one another, as he washed their feet.
I had a thought in church. My faith is weakest in confidence in the future.
You see, after Jesus rose, it was inevitable that he would leave us. To ascend to heaven to be with God the Father.
He told us He will come again. But suddenly, I am afraid. I feel abandoned. Like a child again. With a distant father.
I have a strong connection to the Jesus that was born to a virgin. Who walked the earth, humbly, healing the sick, feeding the poor, loving and teaching. That Jesus is very real to me.
And the suffered he endured. The humiliation. The betrayal. That feels so real too. My heart is still hurting. Tears well up behind my eyes as I type this.
But now, he has risen! That is a glorious miracle! Why am I not more joyful!
We sang "Because He Lives" in church. I cried big, hot tears the whole time. I wanted to curl up in a ball and sob.
Why was I not jumping up and down and celebrating? After church, I slid out the side door before anyone could ask me what my plans were. Before any well meaning members could offer me a ride somewhere as they usually do.
I needed to walk. To be alone with my pain. I went to lunch. I read a bit. My heart felt heavy.
But then I got up and headed to my brother's house. Where I could be Aunt Zita, where I could be part of my family. Where I was needed. Where I wouldn't feel abandoned. Even as I saw my father, weakened from his Parkinson's disease sitting silently on the sofa. My earthly father who was always so distant, but now is so dependent on us. And my bands around my heart loosened.
You see, aside from my spiritual angst, today was a good day spent with the family that met for dinner at my brother's house.
I had an interesting conversation with my nephew. The young man who helped me move. Who loves pho as much as I do!
He finally opened up a bit about his social anxiety. My brother had asked him about his job search. And the suggestion of counseling to address his social anxiety.
At that point, I shared with him my own history of extreme shyness and social anxiety. I told him I used to be petrified of recitals, public speaking and dinner parties. But I learned to play a role. Acting friendly and positive. And after time, the fear subsided. I am still an introvert. I enjoy my own quiet company. My best friends are books. But I have found a social personality that works pretty well for me without making other people feel uncomfortable. Most of the time.
I told him I also really enjoy family and spending time with people one on one. We talked about what kind of work he was interested in. My brother and mother joined in the conversation. It was very supportive. And loving.
I volunteered to help him with his resume. I am good with resumes. And interviews. He was listening. I feel hopeful for him. I have been concerned about his social anxiety for some time. Especially if he feels trapped by it.
Interestingly, the last several times I have spent time with him, he has been quite the conversationalist. Perhaps he just needs some loving supporting family members and a lot of practice!
I also spent some time with my little 9 year old niece and her friend at the nearby park. We sat at a picnic table and looked at some books we found in the free neighborhood lending library.
Out of the blue, my niece looked up and said "Aunt Zita, we went to church today. My first time ever!"
She had gone with her friend and her family. To a very large church full of music and big festivities for Easter. I asked her if she had fun. She said she did. Then I asked if they understood the meaning of Easter.
What followed was a precious conversation.
"Easter is about God", said her friend.
"Yes. And then God dies", said my niece.
I asked them if they knew who Jesus was.
"He helped sick people and a blind guy", said her friend.
We talked about the life of Jesus. His teaching. And the crucifixion. And the resurrection. They seemed very interested.
It warmed my heart to share my faith with them.
Then my niece said, "Oh and then God did something to some animals too. I read about it in the bible book you gave me".
So then we talked a bit about Noah. Then they ran back to the picnic table to finish their book and snacks.
Yes, I wish my daughter, husband and baby in the belly had been there. Yes, I was missing my son. And my other niece and my grandniece.
But tomorrow is "Pho" Monday. I will focus on the rest of the family then.
And I will focus on taking care of myself. And I will try to wrap my head and heart around the risen Jesus.
This is where I am in my walk. This is where I will pick up tomorrow.
I am looking forward to deep sleep.
Tomorrow is a brand new day. I will once again focus on whole foods. Much water. Prayer. And more exercise.
And on that note, I wish you all a good night.
Today, my fruit of the spirit that I focused on was "generosity". I have learned that when I am hurting emotionally, I heal when I can be there for others.
I was. And the "D" word has retreated.
Take that D word!
He has risen and so have I!
Happy Sunday!
Talk to you tomorrow.
Love,
Zita
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