Traditions Tried and Traditions New

I think the old adage goes like this: When you’re really busy, time flies.

And the antithesis is: When there’s not much going on, there’s not much going on. Today lasts forever and tomorrow is hours and hours and hours away.

And then some.

I was thinking about Easter and how it seems to have been several weeks ago. But no, not even a whole week ago.

I haven’t been completely dormant this week. I’ve done important (but not too interesting) things, such as going to the grocery store, purchasing a limited amount of things, like salad stuff and hot dogs (and buns) and, um, other random stuff. I called in a prescription refill and picked that up at Target.

I’ve done some knitting. And had to start one thing over. Three times.

I’ve done a bit of work outside, but the weather’s been pretty chilly. Unseasonably chilly, as though WEATHER had not looked at the calendar and noticed that it’s April here. I keep thinking that I need to launder and put away the wintry clothing and pull out the springtime stuff. Not yet. (Of course, in just a few weeks, summer will be ready to creep in, and I’ll be complaining about the heat.)

And speaking of Easter, it rained. In the wee hours Sunday morning, a gigantic crash rattled the windows, an epic flash of light illuminated the bedroom, and drenching rain came down. And down. And down. And down.

The first thing I thought about was that I hoped that parents, trying to get ahead of the chaos of Easter morning, had not decided to hide eggs outdoors for their kids to find at the first light of day, which is when children who are expecting treats are going to want to rise and shine.

I was reminded of an Easter when I was a college student. A friend came home for the Easter weekend, and on Saturday, I went to her house and we decorated a lot of hard-boiled eggs and decorated them. She was inviting some high school friends over for a party, and then there would be a grand finale of finding Easter eggs in her spacious back yard. In the dark, with only the limited light from the garage and back patio lights.

Her friends were up to the challenge and eagerly went out to find those eggs. They got flashlights. They looked and peered and hunted.  Nothing. They could not find a single egg. My friend, and I, were shrugging our shoulders and trying to guide them to the places where we were certain there should be eggs. No luck. We were confounded.

She was able to figure it out the next day, when she noticed some movement in the back yard. The neighbors had a couple of large dogs, and they had pushed their way through a gap in the fencing. They were making beelines to the places where, during the early evening before, they had found some scrumptious, crackly, chewy, yummy treats.

She notified the neighbors that their dogs were out. And that their fence needed mending.

Some Easters have been bright and warm, others have been cloudy and damp. Since Easter isn’t a set date in the springtime, anywhere from March 22 to April 25, knowing what the weather might be, is, well, variable.

On our most recent Sunday morning, we had video church, now running for five Sundays. For most weeks, our pastor has preached from the living room (and our minister of music has led us in singing from his living room). Last Sunday, the preaching came from the beautiful back yard. That giant thunderstorm was short-lived, and the sun was shining. Alleluia!

Jeremy and Sarah’s church, in Brooklyn, has been putting Scripture reading and choral music with each week’s sermon and posting it online on Sunday mornings.

Kevin and April’s church has been having their worship services online for the past several weeks. They wanted to do something different on Easter, wanting the people to gather together, but staying safe. They invited everyone to drive to church, park in their larger parking lot, and worship together in their cars. They got an FM transmitter so that people could listen through their car’s radio. The pastor also invited people, when they would have said “Amen,” to honk their horns.