I'm not a fan of Lent, nor mortality for that matter. And as a friend said today, it feels that we have been stuck in an elongated Lent since last year. I'm always more than ready to move to Easter, with acclimations of new life and the celebration of spring. And I love Easter worship. Every part of it. I recall a sermon I gave years ago in which I shared that if you can come to church only once a year, come on Easter.
And I miss it again this year. And today, less than a week after my first chemotherapy treatment, I feel, well, yucky. Not nauseated, not really tired, just kind of awful. I suspect it's to be expected that some days I would not feel terrific. But even with my physical discomfort, I feel joy and hope and promise and compassion and gratitude and grace. Yes, Easter.