Happy Easter Tuesday! And for those who celebrate, a late Happy Dyngus Day! It was a busy week and weekend with filling eggs for the Grands’ Easter egg hunt and all the Triduum observances. Like many of you, I was busy. I was more Martha than Mary these last few weeks of Lent.

Most of us are familiar with the story of Martha and Mary, the sisters who welcomed Jesus into their home. While Martha busied herself with the cooking and prepping for their guest, Mary was spending her time at the feet of Jesus. Martha felt a little put out–who wouldn’t with all the bread baking and proper seasoning of vegetables and meat, watching fires to make sure all the food was ready at the same time, checking that serving bowls had the right spoons and ladles… and so she whined. Instead of taking her side outright, Jesus did a little ‘tsk-tsking’ and said Mary had the right idea. How often do I sympathize with Martha!

This is my ‘prayer chair’ in the kitchen nook, appropriate so close to the busiest part of the house. If I can’t be out on the deck listening to the bird chorus during my morning meditations, I’m in this chair. Except for these past several weeks of Lent. Lately this is what it looked like–empty. I started out with good intentions, even while not having a set plan for the pillars of Lent–prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. For the first three weeks or so I lighted my candles and settled into the morning’s meditations, but I don’t think the fourth week’s candle ever saw a match. I know the last two didn’t.

I wish I could recall all the ways I kept busy, but most was just daily ‘tending the hearth’ busy-ness. It hit me on Good Friday as I made deviled eggs for Saturday’s family gathering, how it was this sacred day and instead of spending time in quiet reflection, I was blending yolks and proper seasonings with Dad’s secret ingredient, and making pies and potato salad. How I’d spent so much of Lent doing instead of being. I didn’t whine because I didn’t feel put out. I felt guilty.

On Holy Saturday, thanks to my sisters, I sat and watched Godspell, that 70s era retelling of Matthew’s gospel. A family favorite. During the parable of the sheep and the goats, (if you did this for the least of my brothers …), I heard a gentle ‘tsk-tsking’ a quiet, ‘Remember?’ Images of some of my doing was at Jesus’ feet, they just didn’t look like his.

I saw the pillars of Lent I thought I’d slighted. My prayers were more direct and constant. Friends were going through health issues, my sisters and I had a thread of texts that began, ‘Please add to your prayers …’ The list of names I pray of those serving in the military grew. There were prayers of thanksgiving for safe travels, for healing and successful surgeries. Prayers of awe when the first buds of lilacs unfolded and when four astronauts safely lifted off. On Holy Thursday I’d intentionally spent the day in my garden, in remembrance of Jesus spending hours in Gethsemane.  

Fasting this year was more about watching what came out of my mouth than what I put into it. That also included what I posted or shared online. It wasn’t easy. I did better than I expected but not as well as I should have.

We returned our little cardboard rice bowl mite box on Easter Sunday, but most of my almsgiving showed up on my credit card statement. Those charges were also more specific than simply ‘give to the poor’. GoFundMe’s for families who lost homes in fires, a friend relocating, a former classmate in the hospital, and memorials for a string of deaths that followed one after the other like pearls on a necklace. After one tough weekend I was ready for Easter joy!

And of course it came.

Like Christmas, Easter isn’t one day and the season is over. It’s just the beginning. The Easter season ends in 50 days at Pentecost, still plenty of time to find my Mary again. She’ll probably be out in the garden.

In the story of Martha and Mary, Jesus didn’t say Martha’s work wasn’t important or necessary, sometimes being Martha and ‘doing’ is being at the feet of Jesus. He simply reminded her to make time for the quiet sitting at his feet, too. The world needs both sisters.

This week there will be additional posts as I celebrate National Poetry Month! I hope you’ll stop by my window and meet these poets, starting tomorrow! May we all notice moments of joy in the midst of all our doing and being.