Eve

Christmas Eve is exciting.  There is anticipation.  It's joyful.  There are times spent gazing at lights on the tree, sipping a warm drink, sitting beside a fire.  It's beautiful.

Holy Saturday is something of an "eve."  It is dark and painful.  It is somber and worshipful.  We pause, waiting again with those who mourned over the dead Christ, contemplating the hopelessness of life without Him.  But even in the darkest moment, we now know there is life and hope.  This sorrowful eve breaks forth in boundless joy when the sun/Son rises on Easter.  It's beautiful.

Hey...even all Hallow's Eve is fun.  There is candy and mayhem, friends and neighbors.  On the best Halloweens there might even be a cool breeze, a warm cider, some sweet treats, perhaps even a little scare. It's beautiful in its own way.

But tonight is an eve I've never experienced before.  What will tomorrow feel like?  I certainly don't see joy and beauty.  Finality, yes.  Perhaps a sense of release.  But there is no season for this; no accompanying ritual or meal.  It is simply the full realization of "not the way it's supposed to be."  At the same time, I don't feel sad.  Maybe I've become numb.  Or perhaps this has to come in order to be able to live without constant pain and longing.

Tonight is still and cool and quiet.  Tomorrow I will no longer be a married man.