Depleted

It's Good Friday. My routine today involves a little bit of shopping (yes, I left Easter Bunny purchases for the last minute), Good Friday service and Rise, the worship program presented by the Nativity youth, and, after everyone goes to bed, watching the Passion of the Christ.  

I'm on the tail end of what I think was food poisoning, which means God gave me the perfect physical condition-depletion-to contemplate this very holy day. The up side is that fasting will be easy, for the first time ever! Of course, a few days of a stomach bug is not worthy of being mentioned in the same sentence with the Christ's suffering and crucifixion. But we all have our own crosses, some tiny, like a stomach illness, and some great. We can use these experiences to think of Christ.

What must it have felt like for Jesus to be that physically, emotionally, and spiritually depleted? In the Passion, the scene that impacts me the most is when, during the Way of the Cross, Christ falls, his cross crushing him, and he turns his head to see Mary looking at him with great angst. And in all this depletion, he says, "see, Mother, I make all things new." Maybe it's the Mom in me that makes me choke up at that scene. But it's also my unbelief that anyone can take such an eternal view in such a painful situation of apparent doom.

Only one Person can do that-make all things new in the midst of the greatest depletion ever suffered.  

Engagement Bike

I'm reading marriage preparation materials in order to launch Nativity's group for engaged couples, coming this summer. Anyway, it got me thinking about the fact that I have been married a really long time for my age, at least by today's standards. I got married when I was 23 (yes, collective gasping would be appropriate here), making me married about 18 years. I think. I was not a math major.

I went to another church's marriage preparation program this weekend to observe, and there was a blessing over the engagement rings. That struck me as funny for many reasons, not the least of which was the visual of 20 couples facing each other holding hands, resembling that group wedding event they used to host at Rash Field on the outdoor ice rink. Mostly, though, it made me think of the fact that, while I received an engagement ring, I never wear it and I don't consider it my real engagement present.  

My real engagement present hangs in the basement by a large metal hook--my engagement bike. It is a white Nishiki mountain bike, circa 1989, that weighs about 40 pounds, made in a decade when bikes were not constructed of light titanium. It is so outdated, a behemoth of a bike with terrible gears and a severely ripped seat. I don't ride it anymore (I have a much cooler bike now, a Trek with shocks). Yet I keep this dinosaur. You can't get rid of your engagement present! Luckily, when Eric and I did our marriage preparation, there was no blessing of anything--it would have been quite cumbersome to lug that monster bike in. Although I could have ridden it to the class.

It is funny the material things you cherish, and don't cherish, in marriage. I like my engagement ring, but I'm not a diamond girl. In fact, I'm not a ring girl. So, I pull it out for special events and push it on my finger (push really hard--it doesn't fit too well anymore). But even though I never use my old white bike, I love it. Eric set it up in my apartment while I was away at my last college swim meet, a very disappointing finale to my swimming career. When I opened my apartment door, there it was. I never asked for this bike--it was as total surprise.  He just knew I would like it.

As I structure the Nativity marriage preparation program, I hope I can reflect on important things about marriage that will be helpful to newly engaged couples. But I also hope I can point out the seemingly small things that partners can do for each other that survive the passage of years. I don't think Eric foresaw that I would keep an outdated piece of sporting equipment for 20 years. It takes up a lot of room, and frankly we could use the space. But it's not about the bike. It's about the fact that it was a thoughtful gift, and it is about the memories attached to it. That bike has taken me on rides with my husband on Pennsylvania mountains, Maryland trails and North Carolina beaches. The beach was a disaster, by the way. Who knew that bikes don't work well in sand?

So, for my 20th wedding anniversary, don't expect me to sport a new bracelet or anniversary band. I've got my eye on a kayak.