A Prayer for Holy Week (Tuesday)


Dear God,

What was Tuesday like for you on this week, so many centuries ago? What was any Tuesday like for you? How did you wake, brush your teeth, strap on your sandals, greet the disciples…how did have any sort of ‘normal’ routine, knowing what the end of the week held?

I think, sometimes, that it would be wonderful to know the future. But I have anxiety issues as it is.

So what are you trying to teach us, O Lord, from the fact that you lived? Not that you were born, you died and then you popped out of the grave…but that you alsolived. You were nursed and went through teething; you learned to walk (land AND water…chica-whaa?); you had a laugh and a smile; you had friends, some less annoying than others; you scraped your knees; you grew peach fuzz; you got sunburn and blisters; you had favorite foods and the meals you’d gotten sick of (like fishes and bread, I’d guess). God, what a fun thing to imagine, that you lived as one of us, that the most elementary human experiences are all things which you yourself celebrated and endured.

And yet…the whole time, you knew about the cross.

I mean, I take Xanax… but how did you manage that? Especially on the Tuesday before your crucifixion. Your disciples had no clue! You bore the burden of this knowledge alone.

I wonder, Jesus, if there’s a lesson in that for me. I know the future- or at least you’ve given me a spoiler alert: it doesn’t end with the grave but with the resurrection. (Granted, I don’t always believe it will end this way. But you assure me nonetheless.)You’ve left out the bad parts and shared with me the best. Why don’t I live that way? Better yet, why don’t I live every moment like it’s a divine moment. Because at some point in your life, you shared the most basic of experiences I- as a human- have. So if flatulence, washing hands, sighs, eye rolls and headaches can be part of the divine life…why can’t the rest of mine too?

Help me to live the divine life, oh Lord. Help me to live life like someone who knows the end of the story. And help me to truly believe that I do.

Make this day spectacular, not because anything has changed, but because grace has changed the way in which I see all the anythings.


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