Walking the Desert Road

After the horror of Good Friday, after the utter despair of Holy Saturday, after the unexpected joy of Easter Sunday, came Monday morning when the disciples wondered what they were to do now.

The future they envisioned had come crashing down, and their leader, the person they loved, was gone. But they had changed because of him and, sink or swim, they were resolved to continue on and make the dream real. 

The Desert

The journey through grief begins

in the desert

where nothing seems familiar

and nothing seems certain.

Mark Liebenow

Walking the Desert Road

Monday People

Those who grieve feel like Saturday people, in the Christian Holy Week lexicon of events. They wait in the dark, uncertain space between death and life, between the despair of Good Friday and the joy of Easter Sunday, finding it hard to believe that anything is left, because everywhere they look, they see destruction and emptiness.

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Desert

When someone close to you dies, you begin to walk among the dead. My essay at Open to Hope.

www.opentohope.com/already-among-the-dead/

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Desert                 

A dry, desolate land of rocks and sand.

Beyond the outskirts of civilization.

I rise with the sun, even though I haven’t slept,

go to bed when I can’t stay awake,

eat when I have to.

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