Lazarus, Come out!

These words rang through my head Sunday morning as my dear husband tried to rouse me at 6:30. The day before me was full and I felt as though I were being drawn very gently through that long corridor from darkness to light. Fresh on my mind were the readings for the 5th Sunday of Lent (http://www.ewtn.com/devotionals/inspiration.htm#13) which prepared me for the awakening and I dutifully obeyed the voice without resistance knowing that it was only grace that pulled me to my feet.

We were all ready for Mass at 8:45. I helped teach the K-1st children's religion class at 11:15. Then home to clean and tidy the house and cook a little before family arrived after 2:00 for art, dinner and a movie. (I've greatly abbreviated all that is involved in actually carrying out these acts - truly the early rousal was crucial.)

Boys and little ones played happily while incredibly talented sister instructed the girls and I in the fine art and toxic dangers of bead making. The results of our first attempt were quite crude but the colors, beautiful. The girls made gifts of their work to share with their friends.

Lazarus eagerly crashed upon the bed the moment the family left succumbing to physical exhaustion. A cranky, sleep deprived toddler provided a good excuse for the not as cranky but very tired Mommy. Lightning and thunder couldn't rouse even the children to fear as they had spent all their reserves on the day as well. Rather, it was the rythm of the passing storm that gently rocked us all back to a peaceful rest.