...Easter weekend...

Friday night I went to St. John's Lutheran to see their Stations of the Cross production. Paintings depicting the last hours of Christ were displayed on a giant screen, and actors posed in the same manner as the painting while a narrator read the story. It was interesting, but I wasn't moved. In fact, I left early. There were other factors, of course, but I am rarely left unaffected by stories of Jesus.

I wondered, do I know this story so well that I am no longer stirred by it?

I came home, the song Say Something running through my mind and heart, wondering why Jesus didn't say something when accused, wondering why God doesn't say something to me now, and I was unable to put thoughts and feelings into words, so I went to bed with the intention of waking early to write that evening's blog post.

When I awoke on Saturday, I heard an immense amount of dripping water and ran through the house trying to find the source. Sadly, the toilet tank in the bathroom on our main floor had cracked in the middle of the night and as water drained out onto the floor and leaked through the floors and into our lower level, the tank dutifully would refill itself when the water got too low.

My adventure over the past 36 hours, besides a few hours working and a few hours spent with family to celebrate Easter, has been trying to figure out how to dry the carpet in our lower level. I have been standing on dry towels until they are soaked with water, then putting them in the dryer, and then repeating the process once the towels were dry again. There are fans and dehumidifiers working over time to try to dry up the water before our house begins to mildew and mold.

It's been discouraging, frustrating, annoying, and irritating, and it's certainly not the the way I wanted to spend the weekend.

Then this evening, I spent some time with this guy. Matt's a dear friend, and his playing and accompanying as I sang really lifted my spirits. We practiced Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (which is what we're going to sing at the recital this year) and laughed at our British accent attempts. Anyone have any good suggestions for developing a great British accent?

When we weren't singing or playing, we were chatting about our futures, about change, and about where we hoped we would be in the next few years. If you have a moment, would you encourage him? I would love to see him pursue his goals, and sometimes I think we all need a cheerleader, don't you?

Do you need a cheerleader? How can I cheer you on this week?