sunday's comin'

how strange, this day between good friday and easter sunday.

last night we went to our good friday service.  on the other side of lornie sat a little lady, hunched and shrivelled, probably in her 80's.  during most of the service, she leaned forward, gazed intently at what was happening on the platform with her wrinkled hands raised lowly on her lap--and whispered her thoughts to Jesus.  

this woman worshipped.

 lauren told me afterwards that the little lady leaned over during the service and told her, "isn't it so awful what Jesus had to do for us on that cross?"  i've never seen her before, but i would love to know her story and to hear what drove the gospel so deeply into her heart.

today is saturday.  we are in the in-between.  good friday, the funeral, is over.  during this day, Jesus was alive.  He was doing holy business in the bowels of hell.  i thought of Him a lot today, his suffering done, yet His work not yet complete. i wonder what this day was like for Him?  not good friday, not resurrection sunday.  transition saturday? what was that day like for Him? was his heart looking toward tomorrow? 

it was a strange day for us. half our family is gone.  erica is in mexico.  alan and tessa are in atlanta for a volleyball tournament.  it was me, loey and the beej.

and today we martins prepared for resurrection day tomorrow.  we are hosting the family's easter dinner and there was tons to be done. i told the girls that we could all either let the day be a drudgery day full of chores and preparations, or we could make it part of our worship and anticipation of tomorrow.  it seemed like we rose to the challenge, and we had a great day together planting flowers, chopping peppers, marinating lamb, cleaning windows, sweeping the garage, toting laundry, taking out trash, hosing patios and porches, sweeping the cobwebs from under the eaves.

we were surrounded by so much beauty today.  the smell of the shish-ka-bob marinade, (olive oil, lemon, garlic, red onion, salt, pepper, oregano) was sublime.  (i always make my family smell it after i've made it. i even bring the bowl to them wherever they are in the house, so they can get a good sniff.  they think i'm weird, but i don't care. it is simply that good.) 

the colors of the flowers were a feast for the eyes.  (petunias, pansies, hydrangeas)  we dug our hands down into the soil, mixed in the cool water, turned the soil until it became that dark, rich color you can smell.  (lornie kept saying  the word "nutrients, " milking every syllable, as she worked the soil in her pots.)

after working most of the day, we are finally ready.  so now we'll just relax and look at our flowers and smell our lamb marinade until tomorrow when our hearts can finally burst forth--as He burst forth from the grave--with every ounce of celebration at what is means to us that He lives!

the colors of these peppers are proof enough for me that there is a God. 

the lamb, with its marinade, waiting in the wings

can you smell that soil?

after the work was done, we sat on the front lawn and this is what we saw.

 (maddie took this picture)