It is easy to get lost in the Woods. All directions look the same. The tall trees make a canopy overhead. So it goes with our lives. Each path seems to lead to the same place. Alone time is helpful…time to get in touch with our conscience. Is our conscience contained in our body, or is there a universal consciousness and we are its radio transmitters? How little of our consciousness leaks through to our task-oriented… results-producing brain. We like to think we are our own woman… we are our own man… yet our thoughts are taken up with another’s words and plans. How much of life do we really see?

What is faith…what is our spiritual journey? How do we serve our faith…our sense of place…our hunger for meaning in the wilderness?

‘He told me that he was tempted in the Garden,’ Mary M said. ‘The Teacher said that it took many days and nights to work out the deception delivered as logical thought,’ Mary M continued. ‘The Tempter was beautiful and easy to be with…a creature of some warmth…some hope…a seemingly settled individual speaking truth,’ Mary M said quietly. ‘His promise was easy on the ears… comforting… no pain involved,’ Mary M said. ‘The Teacher noted that he understood what was happening to him in his alone time…the quiet of the Garden…the Spirit,’ Mary M continued. ‘Now he is prepared for the mission…he is ready to fulfill the promise…he knows what he must suffer and do,’ Mary M whispered.

‘There will be a great supper tomorrow night,’ Judas said. ‘The Teacher will sup with us and tell us of his plans for the future,’ Judas continued. ‘I believe he will be revealed as the Son of God at the Supper,’ Judas noted with aplomb. ‘I have faithfully followed him…I love him…it is time for him to become King,’ Judas offered. ‘I often wonder if he understands me,’ Judas mused. ‘I am included in all matters of his work, and yet he seems not to see me,’ Judas said quietly. ‘I could not believe the time he spent in the Garden…while we waited to begin the work of the Kingdom,’ Judas offered. ‘The Teacher’s pace of movement seems incremental to me…a bit slow for the mission,’ Judas noted with a wry smile.

‘We need a guide in these thick Woods,’ the Old Man said. ‘We need someone with a compass,’ the Old Man continued. ‘I hear the rustling of waters and see the doves flying overhead,’ OM observed. ‘I am going in the direction of the doves and the water sounds,’ the Old Man continued. ‘The Preacher is here in the Wilderness…he is waiting for us to find him,’ the Old Man continued. ‘The Preacher will assist us in finding our way out of the Wilderness…his mind is settled…he understands his mission…he loves the poor and hungry,’ the Old Man observed. ‘Maundy Thursday is tomorrow…we remember the Last Supper…the Crucifixion…the death of our Lord…his Resurrection,’ OM promised. ‘He was a Man…he was God…what a unique combination…what a calling…what a Messiah,’ the Old Man said softly.

Windy the last day of March. Going out like a lion. Hold on to your hat. A lot of pastel colors. Chocolate Easter Eggs are delicious. New clothes for Sunday. We must look our best. Easter is special. The Church Pews will rejoice with their new company. The Preacher has prepared. The Choir is in good voice. Sunrise Service is fun…especially the doughnuts. Restaurants will be full. Then the Hunt.

‘Could I have your attention?’ Fred Frog said. ‘Remember this is for Easter and we want it to be good,’ Fred continued. ‘This is our first performance of the spring season…we will sing knowing that He is watching,’ Fred F noted. ‘I have heard that the Mole Family Singers will be performing…this will be a first for them…we will show them how it is done on Easter,’ Fred extolled. ‘Remember when the Carpenter built our stage last year?’ Fred Frog asked. ‘He was so kind and full of stories and fun,’ Fred F recalled. ‘He did not see a stranger…we all felt welcome and at home,’ Fred laughed. ‘He had dinner at my house and played with the kids and helped clean up the dishes,’ Fred winked. ‘The Carpenter was a hit with the missus…he even sang with us…his harmony was perfect…like the sound of many rushing waters and of doves gathered together,’ Fred F said quietly. ‘He asked me if we would sing…on Easter…for joy and for peace,’ Fred Frog said with a tear in his eye.

‘We will sing for our Friend,’ Maury Mole said. ‘He made us feel important…like we were somebody…we felt seen…we felt heard…we felt at Home,’ Maury M. explained. ‘He helped me fix my roof…he is an adept Carpenter,’ Maury noted. ‘He enjoys a glass of wine in the evening…and figs…then he tells the most interesting stories…stories of hope and Heaven…stories of peace and home…stories of love and forgiveness…stories of putting your neighbor before yourself…I laughed when he advised to turn the other cheek…I asked him what happens when I run out of cheeks,’ Maury Mole said.

It was a quiet day in the Woods. The Gentle Deer family was preparing for a spring picnic. ‘I have the picnic basket packed…did you find the tablecloth?’ Mary Deer asked. ‘We will have a Holy Week lunch in preparation for the Master’s suffering…death…and return,’ Mary Deer said. ‘This is a week of deep reflection…where have we been…where are we going,’ Mary Deer noted.

‘How was it he came to save us, and we did not know who he was?’ Mr. Mole asked. ‘He was the Prince of Peace…yet we continue to fashion instruments of war,’ Mr. Mole noted softly. ‘He walks through the Woods often…in the cool of the day…he invited me to walk with him,’ Mr. Mole continued. ‘The Teacher spoke of laughter and light…how all creatures had value to God…how he loved the sound of the babbling brook,’ Mr. Mole continued. ‘He gave me new spectacles and helped me fix my roof…he is a carpenter…he is good with a hammer and nails,’ Mr. Mole grinned.

‘The Carpenter is my buddy…I carry him many places…I carried him down the palm-strewn street of Jerusalem yesterday,’ Mr. Donkey said with twinkling eyes. ‘It was so loud and party like yesterday…it seemed he would be crowned King…today it is quiet…people are whispering…their glances have some paranoia in them,’ Mr. Donkey said. ‘The Carpenter is Gentle as always…he remains unruffled… non-anxiety…determined to fulfill his Dad’s plan,’ Mr. Donkey continued. ‘The Carpenter is a bit of an introvert…who loves people…he gets lost in thought…he loves his Mom and Dad…he talks with Mary M…he makes sure my family and I are warm and well fed,’ Mr. Donkey said with a smile. ‘He is not looking forward to what is coming…,’ Mr. Donkey noted with sadness.

‘When you see the sky turn dark…and nature becomes still… no birds singing… no deer scurrying…still like the darkest night you have seen…know that it is finished,’ the Carpenter said. ‘Then…a new day will dawn…Hope emerges from the tomb…I will have a lot of Carpentry work to do…and you will help me,’ the Carpenter said with a laugh.

The road into Jerusalem was dusty with the throng of people waving palms. Mr. Donkey was proud and held his head high. Upon his back was Jesus…the King of the Jews. Mr. Donkey saw the love in Jesus sad eyes. When Christ petted his mane…he felt love. The people’s eyes were glowing with admiration and full of tears of joy. ‘I have a special mission today,’ Mr. Donkey told his wife and kids. ‘Jesus will ride triumphantly into Jerusalem, and I will carry him,’ Dad Donkey said. ‘Remember we went to hear him speak at the lunch of fishes and loaves,’ DD said. ‘His voice is like the sound of many rushing waters and a flock of doves,’ Dad Donkey continued. ‘He treated us specially at lunch and gave us a second portion of food,’ Dad Donkey noted. ‘Jesus laughed when you kids brayed at him and came over to speak to us…I wonder how many in the group understood that he could understand Donkey language,’ DD said. ‘Today will be exhilarating…majestic…full of hope,’ DD noted. ‘Jesus told me last night to not fear if things changed in the next few days…that God had it all under control,’ Dad Donkey said.

‘I talked with the Carpenter at length last evening…he said the cross he was to bear for his father was heavy…he wanted not to bear it…but said he must for us,’ Mary M said. ‘He spent some time in the Garden…the Con Man accompanied him…his promises were delightful…hollow… suffering was the road for him to become King…to save our family of humanity,’ Mary M whispered. ‘He told me to carry on his work if he did not return,’ Mary M continued. ‘His words were mysterious… against what we know as the common reality…words of faith beyond my understanding,’ Mary M said with tears in her eyes. ‘The Carpenter said that his words come from God…it takes faith to receive them…they are truth beyond what we see with our eyes or hear with our ears,’ Mary M said. ‘He spoke of his Mom and told me to look after her…he asked me to speak to his brothers…he said it was going to be horrible and wonderful,’ Mary M said with passion.

‘Hosanna to our King,’ the Ethiopian proclaimed! ‘Hosanna in the highest to he who has come to redeem Israel…to speak peace to the captives…to open the eyes of the blind…to raise the dead,’ the Ethiopian said. ‘He who sees neither color nor creed…He who made us all in his image…He who loves with a perfect love… all of us,’ the Ethiopian noted. ‘Tell me what I can do for you…how can I assist you…I will bear any burden,’ the Ethiopian proclaimed. ‘Let me sit at your feet when you come into your kingdom…you realize my value as a son of God…I realize your value as my King,’ the Ethiopian noted with supreme Joy!

‘He is a man like I have never met before,’ the Woman said. ‘He saved me from being stoned,’ the Woman whispered with feeling. ‘He looked at me, and his eyes pierced my soul…he knew me,’ the Woman continued. ‘He told the angry crowd that whoever had no sin…cast the first stone…they walked away as he wrote in the sand,’ the Woman said. ‘He said that he did not accuse me and to go and sin no more…when I looked into his eyes I saw the sadness of the world,’ the Woman said. ‘His voice was like none I have heard…it lodged in my heart…no one had ever seen me like this Man,’ the Woman said. ‘He wrote of the Stoners past…he wrote of the secrets of their hearts…he wrote of the unseen and the unheard,’ the Woman said. ‘In a moment, I knew the truth of the ages…life was meant to be joy…suffering was an aberration…there really was a Prince of Peace,’ the Woman said with tears flowing down her cheeks.

‘Oh Jerusalem…Jerusalem…how often would I have gathered you like a hen gathers her chickens under her wing…but you would not,’…

‘The crowd is growing by the moment,’ Peter said. ‘The people are ready to honor you as their King,’ Peter continued. ‘There is dancing, singing… tambourines playing,’ Peter observed. ‘The mood is festive… celebratory…there is no doubt you are coming into your Kingdom as God has planned,’ Peter mused with joy. ‘After tomorrow, there will be no doubt…the pains of the Garden will be forgotten…finally, the Messiah was being recognized for who he was,’ Peter thought.

‘Remember what I told you a few hours ago,’ Mr. Smooth said with a grin. ‘You and I know the truth of what is coming…we are clear-eyed…the suffering has not yet begun,’ Mr. Smooth observed. ‘People are fickle…they go where the excitement is…they will follow the best speaker…showman…they crave the Con,’ Mr. Smooth noted. ‘Tomorrow you will ride a donkey into the City…you should be carried on Pharaoh’s Chair,’ Mr. Smooth said. ‘One day chicken…next day feathers,’ Mr. Smooth laughed. ‘The Parade will be grand tomorrow…but then,’ Mr. Smooth trailed off.

‘He is a good boy,’ Mary said. ‘He was a little Scamp…he loved to tease his Mommie,’ Mary laughed. ‘Even as a young boy, his stories captivated those who listened,’ Mary noted. ‘The girls liked him too… natural charmer,’ Mary smiled. ‘I often told him that he had a mission from God…he laughed and cut another board for his Dad in the Shop,’ Mary remembered. ‘He was in demand at all of the parties…he was a powerful presence of friendship to all he met,’ Mary laughed. ‘His favorite words to me were for me not to worry…everything was going to be alright,’ Mary recalled.

‘He is a tender leader…a tender person…always thinking of others before himself,’ Mary M said. ‘He brought me soup when I was sick,’ Mary M remembered. ‘He supports women…he supports our voices…he believes in our ministry from God,’ Mary M continued. ‘I wrote…I speak…I minister… because he believes in me,’ Mary M noted. ‘The people throng him with love…he returns his adoration for them…he loves them…he knows what is next,’ Mary M said. ‘He worries about the boy who has no shoes… the cold girl… the hungry old man…he touches the leper with love,’ Mary M explained. ‘His eyes are always sad…they see the world and beyond…the rich and powerful love him for expediency…the poor and forgotten for their lives,’ Mary M proclaimed in her heart.

‘Come, Master…your people await…they have Palms for your path…you are their King,’ the Beggar said.

It is 85 degrees today with a 30-degree drop by Saturday. It is difficult to know what to wear. Green shoots and buds are appearing everywhere. The miracle of life surrounds us. Life is rich. We think about tomorrow when we are in the midst of excitement today. At any moment, there is more to experience than we can measure.

We instinctively understood as newborns that we had entered a mysterious place. We were overwhelmed. Something life-changing had happened. Abruptly set down in a place we had not imagined. We discovered where the soothing voice came from.

The woods were lovely this morning. A squirrel scampered about with sheer joy and speed of purpose. The Old Man walked through the Woods thinking about the challenges of Christ as he headed for his final week. The mystery and majesty of the Man was his willingness to suffer an ignominious…cruel…death. He was the son of regular folks…his dad was a carpenter. Christ had many poor, unloved people as his friends. The Common man heard him gladly. Christ made the water into wine…not grape juice. He loved a laugh…a glass of wine…talk of the joy of living.

‘I have a gift for you,’ the Deceiver said. ‘You are hungry and tired… your feet hurt and your mind doubts,’ the Deceiver noted with a concerned look. ‘Where are the cadre who swore their allegiance…fidelty…loyalty,’ the Deceiver asked? ‘Are they on a coffee break…holiday…have they left your side from fear…lack of courage…lack of character,’ the Deceiver asked solemenly. ‘Perhaps your Dad’s plan has changed, and he neglected to inform you,’ the Deceiver postulated. ‘Surely he must see your suffering…is he watching the NCAA Big Dance…perhaps he is thinking better luck next time,’ the Deceiver said. ‘What you were told by good old Dad…who is my dear old friend…does not seem to be working out,’ the Deceiver noted. ‘Dad and I have had many productive talks over the millennium,’ the Deceiver explained. ‘He has a great sense of humor…the flood was especially inventive,’ the Deceive laughed. ‘I also admired turning Lot’s wife into a pillar of salt…priceless,’ the Deceiver continued. ‘I visited the Salt Pillar and licked it…it was real salt,’ the Deciver said with a sly grin. ‘Dad wondered why what the Israelites in the Desert saw in the Golden Calf,’ the Decviver mused. ‘He thought it might be an idol fetish, the Deciver smiled. ‘Let me be your Consigliere and cut through the fog of War,’ the Deciver said with calm assurance. ‘I will help you remove the clutter of your questions…the promises unkept…the sorrow of suffering in this God-forsaken Garden…when you are the promised one,’ the Deceiver noted.

Spring is progressing. The Woods is blooming…with a controlled burn. A controlled burn is frightening if you do not know what is occurring. Smoke everywhere. Little fires throughout the forest. The Park Rangers watch attentively. One walks ahead to ensure safety. The Old Man said that the fires create a lot of smoke. The PR said yes and that there would be more before they had completed their mission.

So it is with us…We have controlled burns in our lives. We must throw hatred into the small fire. Selfishness and greed…prejudice… narcissism… conspiracy theories have to be burned safely.

Room for Peace is needed. Not the peace that money can buy…a sense of place is our home. At times, there is smoke in our lives. We search for the fire. Tears are a good counteragent to the flame. Tears of joy…hope… renewal as we travel the road Home.

Weeds come up in daily life. Trees fall in our soul and need to be removed. Brambles encircle our hearts. Vines tie up our spirits. All need a controlled burn to facilitate the new growth…the green shoots pushing through the blackened Earth. New life unencumbered by the hurts and imaginations…the trauma of our past.

MJ and I are well on the road to 50 years of marriage. 48 today. When we married, I was rail-thin and grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I was grinning because I knew how much I did not know. There was expensive gas 48 years ago, as there is now. 1978 was the year I got hired at SIU…but at the time of our marriage, that had not happened yet. Mary Jane was a school teacher, and I was a janitor. Some said it would not last. I think it has a chance. I wanted to be a minister in those halcyon days.

Looking forward, from 20 years old, the road of life seems long. Looking back from 68, it has flown by. On Saturdays, we visited MJ’s Mom and Dad in DuQuoin. At times, we drove to Eldorado to visit Neva J and Earl. By the time our first Christmas came, I had a job at the University and thus money to purchase Neva J and Earl a lovely landscape picture from Downs and Son Furniture Store in Elkville. I remember feeling so proud to have a new car and a nice Christmas gift for them. We had purchased a four-room house…I thought it was a mansion. I told MJ that we were finally in the game.

Marriage is listening more than talking. Three and a half years later, Aaron made the scene, and then a year and a half later, Jonathon bounded in. We make quite a crew! When MJ is not in my sight…I look for her…literally when we are shopping…I lose her in the crowd. If she is not with me…I am not complete.

MJ, Aaron, and Jonathon are my life. For some time, Jennifer has come into our lives and made them richer. My life is exciting…interesting…mysterious and humongous for a young man born in Chicago and raised in Eldorado. There is something new around every corner.

The weather is cool, and the air is crisp. Spring is here. The time of renewal. Peace among the ruins. Green shoots from the ashes of destruction.

Words can heal. They can make the lame walk and the blind see. They can soften the hardest heart. There is a magic to words.

‘Never a man spake like this man,’ said the Temple Officers.

The people gathered together during the plague. Sorrow and suffering surrounded the Earth. There was weeping and gnashing of teeth. Gnashing teeth emits the strangest sound. ‘Grating, squeaking, clicking, or crunching as teeth rub together. People sought gold…a golden calf…a symbol that would calm their frazzled nerves. Some were rich beyond their dreams…yet poor and impoverished in spirit. Televisions could not be made big enough to satisfy the desire to replicate the old-time movie houses. Young men broke bones in their faces to reassemble their appearances. Life was lived on the internet. Friends were there, and some were AI. What people read or saw on social media was accepted as the truth.

‘The Word is real, the Preacher said. ‘Take off your shoes, you are holy ground,’ the Preacher said. ‘God spoke our world, and all that surrounds it into existence,’ the Preacher noted. ‘Simple words have little effect until the Holy Spirit touches them,’ the Preacher explained. ‘Words touched by God move the hearts of women and men and children,’ the Preacher said with a strong voice. ‘Many of us have waited for years to hear the words of God…listen when you recognize it…It is a mysterious, majestic blessing,’ the Preacher said.

It has been a memorable weekend! Weekends of course are meant for fun and relaxation. People live large on their weekends. It is simply that I’ve …

A Memorable Weekend