Keeping Our Weeks Holy is a Full-Time Job

For Christians, Holy Week, the seven days before Easter, is a time for serious reflection, contemplation, for being still, and grappling with the full meaning of what is about to transpire. For those who don’t celebrate Easter, it’s just another week and nothing to get worked up about.

For me, I’ve decided to begin anew this week and try to be more thoughtful and deliberate in what I do, where I go, and how I behave. I invite you to come along.

As we try to move forward from this two-year pandemic-mandated life reorganization, what will/can we do differently? I’ve discovered that I enjoy a slower, quieter pace and I’ve sworn not to pick up my old “busyness” habits ever again.

I’m working from home, so I’ve had to set boundaries. I got it twisted initially with my new workspace—my home office—so I’ve been striving to do better about how I work. My six-hour weekly commute and being stuck in Nashville traffic ended in March 2020 and I admit I did a lil holy dance, but I traded that madness for workdays that never ended.

Whenever I passed by my laptop, I stopped and checked my messages, figuring surely some urgent email needed attention. I finally remembered my workday didn’t have to begin before daylight and end in the wee hours of the morning. I also learned that the millions of emails I left undone were right where I left them the next morning. (I’m still trying to remember what I did with my day before email…)

Anyway, getting a handle on the “holy” will be our only tasks this week. I think these sacred tasks should include time apart, at least two hours basking in the sunshine and admiring the day’s beginnings and endings, moments of meditation and prayers for storm and war victims, advocacy on behalf of righteous causes, planning, and finally, strategizing around our personal stewardship of life. Not just going through the motions and doing what we have to, but infusing things that really matter—like rescheduling postponed visits with long-time friends, sending official mushy notes, and indulging in nothing.

My great-uncle/dad’s favorite thing to do was “beat Ol’ Nothing.” We’d giggle at his oft-repeated reply, but he enjoyed hunting and fishing with his friends, and he always made time for it. Yes, I am advocating neglect of chores — vacuuming, cooking, and dusting come regularly—lunch and a movie with your favorite friend not so much—so use this measuring stick: which will you regret not doing?

This Holy Week I’ll take time to think and thank. I’ll thank the man who cuts our grass with such pride and precision and who tends the flowers like they were God’s own bouquet. I’ll see and thank the people who pick up the garbage every week. Most of us don’t notice/know who takes our trash and disposables away—only when they don’t. Like many jobs, it’s thank-less but necessary.

I will think about the custodians and secretary at my grandchildren’s schools because they’re important in the life of our students too. Their kindness, or lack thereof, colors the entire school day.

I will work at not being attitudinal when I have to wait in line at the store or post office. I’m sure long lines stress the workers too, so I’ll remember Easter’s true meaning and be more patient.

Holy Week comes once a year but every week is important. If we make our actions more thoughtful, sacred, and holy every day, our world will/can be kinder and gentler. Imagine that.

Looking for inspiration, empowerment, uplift, straight talk, an encouraging word to brighten your day? You’ve arrived! Meet Dr. Cynthia Ann Bond Hopson, best-selling author, educator, inspirational speaker, sistergirl–she’s all that and more. Now listen to her new podcast, “Three Stores, Two Cotton Gins, One Remarkable Life: The Journey from There To Here,” and meet her favorite family and friends as they share laughter and heartwarming life lessons. Look for it on this page or wherever you get your favorite podcasts.

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