Day 6: Back to Reality

"Jesus took her by the hand and said to her, 'Talitha cum,' which means, 'Little girl, get up!'

(Mk 5:41)

Today is the first day of "real life" with my Lenten Ramadan.  The normal routine of getting kids ready and off to school, going to school myself, coming home, feeding the family and all the thousand other little things that happen each day were viewed today through the lens of my fast.  I was graced today with several insights, both spiritual and practical. 

Let's start with the spiritual . . . 

There were many grace filled moments today: a thoughtful postcard from current students, a visit from a former student and the gorgeous weather to name but a few.  But perhaps the most inspiring thing happened during lunch.  Well, it happened during what ordinarily would be my lunch.  I have made the decision that during lunch time throughout Lent I will spend time in prayer in our beautiful chapel. (This is no small sacrifice as sharing companionship with my colleagues at lunch is often one of the highlights of my day!)  As I sat in the choir loft in the chapel, a sophomore began playing the piano in the front without knowing I was there.  The soft echo of the piano in that sacred space was soothing, uplifting and George Winston-esque.  She used no sheet music as she masterfully manipulated the keyboard  with great emotion and I felt a deep gratitude for the many talents that are present in our community.  As she played, my attention was drawn to a stained glass window depicting the raising of Jairus' daughter (Mk 5: 21-24, 35-43):

The piano provided a soundtrack of hope and joy as I reflected on the experience of Jesus reaching out to Jairus' little girl.  As she was ushered from death to life, from brokenness to wholeness, I was overwhelmed with the hope and joy that both she and her family must have experienced.  I saw in this 12 year old girl my students and my own children.  I saw in her all of humanity, all of us the children of the same loving God. And I saw what Christ desires for each of us . . . joy, hope, life, wholeness.  He gently reaches out to us, takes us by the hand and invites us to put the past behind and begin anew. (Even as I write this I am deeply saddened by the news from Japan in the wake of Friday's earthquake and tsunami; evidence of the brokenness in our world.  While I can have no explanation for this tragedy, I have the hope that even in our darkest hours he is reaching out to us to offer us comfort, peace and life.)

And now to the practical . . . 

After Jairus' little girl arises, what does Jesus order the family to do?  That's right!  Give her food!  Amen to that!

As I noted yesterday, Daylight Savings Time pushed sunset up to 7:29 pm today . . . blech.  It was a long wait, but not too difficult.  The greatest challenge was in preparing dinner.  I usually do the cooking at home and since I  certainly do not expect my family to wait and eat so late, it was business as usual.  Now, one of the things I enjoy most about cooking is the "pre-meal meal" of taste-testing, finger-licking and general grazing.  But of course, during Ramadan nothing is to enter the mouth until sunset.  So much for the finger-licking.  I must have the cleanest hands in the neighborhood right now because I kept washing them every time they came into contact with food!  (Have you ever made guacamole without making a huge and delicious mess?!)  Aidan isn't feeling well so I sat down with Brandi and Nicholas and enjoyed conversation about our day while they ate.  An hour later I had my chance and, as yummy as the guacamole was, the best part of my meal was the five glasses of ice cold water that accompanied it.