So, it’s Easter which is, arguably, the most joyful day of the church year. Sure, Christmas is great, but there’s something wonderful about going through the suffering of Lent for 40 days, recounting Jesus’ passion and death, and then getting to sing “Alleluia!” again because Jesus has risen. It’s always been one of my favorite holidays because of the insane amount of joy that comes with it.
Joy. I’m really struggling with finding my own joy today. I streamed all of the Holy Week Masses including Mass this morning with my family. I’m incredibly blessed. I’m quarantined with people I love and who love me. I’m able to stay home. My husband is even able to stay home because he got into a minor car accident at work before this all began, and he’s still off from the injury. (He’s driving me crazy, but he’s helpful when I have to work with homeschooling and entertaining our children. And, probably most importantly, I don’t have to have extra anxiety from whatever germs he may or may not be bringing back with him from work each day.) We’ve been able to get outside every day. My children are amazing, wonderful people. I’ve been able to virtually hang out with my friends. I’ve been learning how to virtually teach music. Thank God for the internet during this corona quarantine, right?
I’m beyond blessed. I know this. And I could list all of my joys, and the list would be much, much longer than my worries. I recognize this. I understand it. I know that’s where my focus and my mind needs to be.
But…today should be so joyful. Beyond joyful. Like, I can’t even contain my excitement joyful. However, instead of Easter Sunday, it feels like we’re living in a constant state of Holy Saturday. The waiting. Jesus is risen, I know, but it still feels like we’re waiting for the real “alleluia”. The time when this pandemic will end. The time when life can get back to “normal,” whatever that means now. There’s uncertainty. There’s fear and anxiety about doing necessary things like going grocery shopping. There’s fear and anxiety about seeing people.
I’m an extrovert. I love people. And I’m Italian, so I also crave physical connection. I hate telling my kids to back up when they see the neighbors in the cul-de-sac. I hate seeing my friends struggling and not be able to give them a hug. I hate worrying about everything, but I’m not doing it in vain or just because “I have anxiety.” It’s because it’s very real. And I’m a rule follower. So, I swallow my need to be around people and hug them because I know what I’m doing is helping to flatten the curve. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck though…
I stole the title of this blog from a tweet from RevDaniel. Jesus is still risen, even though no one was in church. It’s still Easter. Alleluia is still back. We still have hope. And we still have joy. I’m just having a hard time looking past myself to find it today.
Pray for me if that’s what you do. If not, that’s ok, send some virtual love and hugs my way. I’ll be fine. I’ll refocus. I’ll figure it out. I’ll find my joy again. I’ll sing Alleluia.
It’s just hard today. I can’t see it. But, I will.