About once a year I take a weekend off from church to unpack all my religious baggage. I sleep in on Sunday morning, and when I get up I spread my baggage out on the floor, everything that has to do with who I am, as an Episcopalian, a peacenik, a praying woman, a Christian. I take a good, hard look at it. I consider whether or not I’m willing to pick it back up again.
It took longer this year than usual.
But I cleaned out a bunch of junk, and my bag’s settled on my shoulders again.
I’m ready. Which way’s Easter?