I rub my hands together and suddenly a pang strikes through my chest. It’s not there. Instantly, I run a replay in my mind, when did I take it off? Memories come in foggy images and sound bytes; unscented cream, parking lot, chattering voices. That’s it. I took it off to lotion my always-dry hands this morning. It must be in the van or one of the parking lots I visited (if it’s still there). I want to race home, to search like the widow and the lost coin, but I’m nestled between the other first altos in the choir loft and our second piece is quickly approaching.
Focus on the readings, I tell myself. There’s nothing you can do but wait. And this service is one of your favorites all year. Reflect.
The lights dim; a candle extinguished. Oh, God be merciful, we sing.
Dread creeps into my mind, my heart. My engagement ring, the diamond my now-husband saved months to purchase, which is really far nicer than I should have, is missing. Yet, the Good Friday service is saturated with reflective readings and special music I’ve waited weeks to experience. I push down my fears. Stay in the moment.
Another candle puffed out as the sanctuary enters complete darkness, save for the lights on music stands. Greater love no one has ever known, they sing.
…
Two thousand or so years ago, a group of friends gathered around candles. Did they utter the Shabbat prayers aloud or simply go through the motions, silently mouthing? Did dread creep unbidden into their hearts and keep them from truly trusting? Blessed are you, Adonai…
How can we worship when something precious is lost?
Today is Holy Saturday, the day in-between. The waiting day. Two thousand years ago, on a Friday, just before the Shabbat, Jesus died, horribly, unfairly. But forced to rest, the disciples of Jesus could only wait. Have you ever received or remembered awful news at a time when all you could do was wait?
…
After the Good Friday service concludes, I quickly, yet hopefully reverently, move around the crowd exiting the church and make my way to the parking lot. There, in between two cars, the ring sparkles in the fading light. Relief washes over me. My own foolishness resulted in the loss of the ring; it could have been gone forever, washed away or picked up by a passerby. Yet, God in his infinite kindness to me, restored my treasure.
…
Our own foolishness, our pride, our selfishness hung our greatest treasure on a cross. Oh, God be merciful. He suffered once, for all. Greater love no one has ever known. One day of waiting we are required. One day to sit in the in-between. Yet, our future is already secure. Blessed are you, Adonai.
But perhaps you, or someone you know, is in the waiting, the dread, the fear. Lord God, Adonai, king of the universe, bless your children who sit in darkness, surrounded by fear. Bring light into the hearts where joy is extinguished and uncertainty reigns. May your death and resurrection become real to those who in waiting. Oh, God be merciful. Amen
Thankful for the lesson and the finding. Love your process.❤️
Once again, well written— I felt your internal struggle as you worked on focusing and your joy when the lost was found!! God has blessed you richly!!❤️