92/365 To done

All over but the banners. Still have those to finish. I'm about 2/3 the way done with the pinning--the water part at the bottom is ready for sewing, and the left side as I face it. The thing is, I can't see the whole banner set laid out at the same time. I can only get a partial view. There is nowhere in my house large enough to lay out something that is 12 feet long and 7 feet wide. The attic, maybe, but that would involve a large amount of house cleaning, which would probably make me break my Lenten promises to not yell at my children.

So I'm reminded of the reading I want at my funeral, which is usually read at weddings (but not at mine). The Corinthians one. You know it. Love is patient, love is kind, and so forth. But the part I want is later--Now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know partially; then I shall know fully, as I am fully known. I can't know what this will look like until I hang it over the choir loft.

And I'm over myself. I pulled a spectacular April Fool's joke on many people and while that might not be really in the spirit of anything Lenten, it was fun, after a long string of life not being very light for me. I don't know. But that, plus simply backing off and reflecting on what I do at church, and more importantly, why, put things into a better perspective for me.

Last night's Holy Thursday service was good. We're getting better and better at stripping the altar. I need to convince Sal that he really, really should stay in the sacristy and not wander off mid-ritual, but it isn't easy to convince him of things when he has his heart set on something.

After going home and frantically working on banners, I paused and went to night prayer. God's work, my work. It may have been more productive to stay at home for the 20 minutes and pin pin pin but I would have regretted missing prayer. I got there a few minutes early and sat next to Sal...and listened to him breathe and swallow for an eternity. I thought about community and why we, as humans, choose to join them. What is it about being with other people--especially other people who irritate us--that gives us so much life? It isn't just sharing in a task like a work committee or political campaign. Church communities have people like Sal and people like Wilma and people like Dolores.

I drove home down Grand thinking these things, missing the monastery, and knowing there was no possible way I was going to get any more work done on the banners that night. Quilting is a liquid--it fills the container given. They would be done by Saturday whether I worked on them or not. And they wouldn't be done until then, whether I worked on them or not.