Everyone who has been married knows this feeling: you’re in the midst of a disagreement with your spouse. You’ve really dug in your heels. You’re ready to die on this hill. And you have the awful, heartbreaking realization that you are wrong. Whatever it is you’re arguing about, you’re wrong. You.

So where do you go from here? The only way forward is to own it. Fess up. Grab a fork and dig into that humble pie. It makes me cringe just to write about it, because it’s the worst feeling.

I use the example of marriage because it’s the one I’m most familiar with — my closest relationship, the one that teaches me the most about who I am and who God asks me to be. But this is a universal experience, and everyone — single or married, child or adult, lay or ordained — knows how badly it feels to realize that you’re wrong. You’re human. You messed up.

Have you ever felt like you weren’t doing the work you should be doing? We have all had jobs that leave us feeling unfulfilled. Bored. Dreading the next day. We may even experience a sensation of unfamiliarity, of being unable to recognize ourselves.

Most of us have also been lucky enough to have a job that we love — a vocation, a calling that makes us look in the mirror and think, This. This is who I’m supposed to be. I recognize this person.

For me, that work is the work of marriage and motherhood. The hours are terrible, the pay is even worse, and my coworkers are frequently disappointed in me — but it doesn’t matter. When I look in the mirror every morning and see my tired, wrinkled face gazing back, choruses of “I said I don’t want the BLUE SHIRT, MOMMY, ugh!” and “Honey, I’ve got an early meeting, I’m so sorry but I have to run,” ringing in the background, I think to myself: I recognize this girl. She was born to do this.

As a child, and even for a while as a teenager, I experienced an enormous amount of anxiety whenever I went to confession. For so many years I feared it. For so many years I waited in the confession line trembling, feeling sick to my stomach. In the upper room after Christ’s Passion and death, the anxiety of the disciples was so strong that they locked themselves away. But still Christ found a way into their midst. He would not be prevented from bringing mercy and hope to a place shrouded in despair. No door barred in a moment of fear could keep him out.

As the sun rose on that first Easter Sunday, the disciples of Jesus were filled with grief and despair. Their leader and friend had been crucified, and their hopes for a new kingdom had been shattered. But despite the overwhelming odds, something miraculous was about to happen.

In John 20:1-9, we read about Mary Magdalene's discovery that the tomb where Jesus had been laid was empty. She ran to tell the other disciples, and Peter and John raced to the tomb to see for themselves. They found the linen wrappings that had covered Jesus' body, but the body itself was gone.

At this point, the disciples were still struggling to understand what had happened. They had seen Jesus die on the cross, and they couldn't imagine how he could have possibly risen from the dead. But as they began to piece together the evidence, they realized that something incredible had occurred.

This week, we will give thanks for the pearls of great price in our lives. (Matthew 13:45). As we prepare for Easter, we want to finish our gratitude journey by reflecting upon those things that matter the most to us.

Palm Sunday, Apr 2
SELF-CARE SUNDAY: Share one kind thing you can do for yourself today in thanksgiving for all you have done in the previous week.

Mon, Apr 3
TODAY, WE INVITE YOU TO GIVE THANKS FOR YOURSELF, YOUR HEALTH, YOUR ABILITY, YOUR MIND, AND FOR WHO YOU ARE.
It is easy to give thanks for others but often more challenging to sit and say thank you to ourselves.