Anniversary

I had a horrendous day today, pain-wise. In the midst of all the emotional fragility that usually comes with that, I realized that the one-year anniversary of my invalidity is next Saturday, April 11th.

Normally (and presuming a good day), I think that milestone would simply earn a slightly ironic comment from me, a sigh or two, or -- at my worst -- an opportunity for navel-gazing and self-pity.

But the date falls on Holy Saturday this year, which is very significant to me.

Some time ago, I was having coffee with a very good friend, who was telling me about her struggles with loneliness, fear about the uncertainty of her future, and her pain over the fact that, at 46, her life has turned out so dramatically different from what she imagined for herself. "I realized recently," she said, "that Advent is like the season of my soul. I'm just waiting in trust for the fulfillment of whatever it is God has planned for me."

I told her that, if that was the liturgical season of her soul, Holy Saturday was mine. I'm not waiting in peaceful expectation of His birth, but with hope and trust struggling mightily against fear and despair at His death. The Blessed Mother was able to get through that day with hope coming out on top, I'm sure. On the other hand, I imagine St. Peter being perilously close to coming completely unhinged -- everything was suddenly, horrifyingly, catastrophically wrong.

I don't know what God is doing in my life -- adding crisis to confusion like this -- but the date reminds me not to overlook the fact that He clearly does.