Today is one of those days that makes the long winters of the North tolerable. It's sunny and crisp. There are little hints of spring all over the place. It's a perfect 10, honestly. So, I did what I do on nice days. I went for a run around the bay. Ok, fine! I went for a run around half the bay and walked the rest. Damn winter weight.
On my way home, I couldn't help but smile at the beauty of the day. I wanted to drink it in. And as I did, I remembered that it's Good Friday. Of course, I knew. I was still trying to enjoy the bit that was my day off before heading to church for what a friend laments to be "substitionary atonement day." Case and point why I hate today. In this twisted irony of enjoying the world's beauty, I felt actual guilt. The kind you feel when you are grieving. It seems that each counseling session I do before a funeral/memorial service shares this same wisdom. On the day that their loved one died, the weather was perfect. People were outside in their yards. People were smiling. And the grief-striken bystander wonders when they might know that kind of happiness again. That's what I felt today. That's what I feel today mingled with a few tears.
I found a companion today in the words of these two theologians. I'm only halfway through but today I read about beauty and remembered my own truth. I remembered what God has taught me over the years of grief. Still, I sigh but it's so nice to know that I'm not alone.