Good Friday

I guess I'll have to finish the story about the church and soup later on. I know...it's a cliffhanger. I will finish the story later when I have more time. Crap. I said it, so now the rest of the story resides in the Pile. The "I'll do it later when I have more time" pile. You all have one and you know it....the half finished scrapbooks, quilts, basements, knitted sweaters, paintings, garage projects...etc. Well, the story has been moved to the Pile and it's there until further notice.

I have something else to report on tonight.

I had a couple of "a-HA" moments today. The moments you get when something clicks in your brain. You memorized something long ago and didn't really understand it....and suddenly, "A HA," you GET IT. Today, I realized that coumadin didn't protect you from a heart attack. You need plavix or aspirin because acute coronary syndrome starts from an inflammatory cascade brought on by a crack in the plaque and PLATELET aggregation. Hence the plavix. Coumadin works on factors II, V, VII, and IX, and therefore doesn't have anything to do with platelets. Whoa. A HA!

My next A Ha moment is more serious, but also more important. I took the kiddos to church tonight all by myself because their dad was stuck in the pharamacy. I was also slated to ring handbells and sing in the choir, somehow maintaining a toddler and baby at the same time. Luckily, Holly and Luke were there at church to help us. Those two are a gift from God, I swear. The just step in and act like surrogate parents whenever I need them. Anyways, I was supposed to be at church at 6:45 for choir rehearsal. At 7:02 when we walked in the door, Holly and Luke were there to take Julia for me. Julia stayed with them through the whole service. Mike showed up a little later and helped me with Mary.

Our Good Friday service is pretty somber. Lots of hymn singing and the reading of the entire Passion. At the end of the service, the lights all go out and the pastor slams the Bible on the altar. It creates a defeaning sound, followed by silence and darkness. It's a pretty profound moment...the usual post-service joyful organ music and jibber jabber of the little old ladies is replaced with an empty, dark void.

It was at this moment that I heard Julia sniffling like she was crying. I was holding a hungry Mary, so I left Mike to get Julia from Holly and Luke. Mike and Julia took a LONG time to come out. I stood in the narthex for about fifteen minutes making small talk while I was waiting for them. When they finally came out, I was preparing a tiny little "mom-rant" about why they shouldn't dawdle at the end of church...mary is hungry...we are up past the girls' bedtime...you know the drill....

He looked like he was about to break down. This was weird...I have never seen Mike cry in public except for when the girls were born. He shot me a Look and said, "I'll talk to you when we get home."

When we arrived in the house and put the girls to bed, I asked him again about why he and Julia had taken so long to leave church tonight. It turns out that Julia wanted to go up to the front of the church after the end of the service. When Mike asked her why, she replied,

"I want to go up there and give Jesus a kiss and tell Him thank you. I want Him to know that I'm sorry that He had to die.."

...

Mike walked her up to the front of the church and Julia proceeded to "look" for Jesus. She walked up behind the altar and looked under the chairs. When she couldn't find him, she decided to kiss the old wooden cross that was brought in for Good Friday.

That's what was taking them such a long time to leave. It never ceases to amaze me just how much my "not quite three year old" daughter understands. It is humbling.