Last night while sitting in a Tenebrae service in commemoration of Good Friday, I couldn't focus.  My mind wandered to my craving for chocolate, the presence of my ex-boyfriend, the clashing colors in my outfit, the bicycle I saw on Craigslist, the church's location and how it would be awfully far away if we had to live in the neighborhood, my friend, the memory of the first time I saw the Passion of the Christ film, the decision to go to Kenya or not go to Kenya, the quality of the worship music (and how it was much better than my church's), the sleepy feeling in my body, the meeting I had with my mentor the following morning, etc., etc., etc...

By the extinguishing of the fifth candle, I realized that my heart was far way, so very far away.  So very removed from the place my heart ought to have been, where I thought it was going to be walking into the sanctuary.  So very alone.  Every time I tried to quiet my mind and reel it back toward the service, it wandered.  Finally, I gave up and sat helpless and left to my own devices.

And then I wondered if, years ago, this was how God and Jesus felt that night.  Helpless, removed from love and light, and nowhere near where they desired to be, where they ought to be...  Maybe it's good to be on the brink sometimes. Especially with the graceful knowledge that he gave all but rose again.