But wait - wasn't it chocolate cake?

I have always loved Holy Saturday.  Whereas Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter (The Great Vigil of Easter through the Sunrise Service to the Festival Celebration of the Resurrection) are stuffed full of liturgical possibilities, Holy Saturday is -

Empty.  Vacant.  Still.  How does one sacralize thin space - liminal space?  Chrysalis time.  Womb time - where everything is happening behind the scenes that makes the impending celebration possible.  Sabbath rest time.  Richard Rohr calls it "the crucial in-between time - when everything actually happens and yet nothing appears to be happening.  It is the waiting period when the cake bakes, the movement is made, the transformation takes place" (Wondrous Encounters:  Scripture for Lent, p 141).  Perhaps it is because there are no set expectations of how this time is meant to be observed that allows for the presence of that intoxicating scent of freedom and possibility.

I pruned rose bushes for Holy Saturday.  I simply could not stay indoors on such a glorious day.  In the backyard I was serenaded by the birds, and joined God in creating the space for beauty in the near future.  Every once in a while the traffic noise from Meridian Road was still, and I could hear the chickens from the farm across the road.  Our development doesn't allow chickens, but they encourage spraying the lawns with chemicals to kill the bugs that chickens would naturally eat.  Silly rules.

I made a pot of spring vegetable soup.  I listened to the birds.  I put aloe on the cuts from the thorns.  I felt the warmth of the sun seeping deeper into my body, until my joints all seemed to take a deep breath and relax.  Nice.

In many ways all of Lent has been thin space for me, so much so that words were not possible.  But I notice that the words are back again, so perhaps the cake is almost done.  I confess that what is emerging in my soul is unexpected (I thought for sure I put a chocolate cake in the oven, but that's not what I smell)...

...but the fragrance is delightful - mysterious - welcome.  I celebrate this unexpected emerging gift.

What new life/new possibilities/new beginning is emerging for you at the end of this sacred journey?

Easter blessings,
Kim