Maundy Thursday

Maundy is such a weird word. I didn’t even know what it meant until I just looked it up on Wikipedia. I was intrigued because I was talking to my nurse this morning and today is a holiday in Europe - the therapists only have to work a half day - but I was explaining that we have a fancy name for the day with no celebration in America. We don’t really get a holiday on Good Friday though people often go to church services in the evening - I was involved in the preparation for the Westport Good Friday service for years. And Easter.

In fact, it’s a very strange feeling to know this is the first Easter in the history of Westport that I won’t be there. Fortunately, the gathering has never been about me. If you or anyone you know happens to be in the greater Hillsboro area, don’t take my word for it, there’s going to be an awesome service this Sunday - bonus, they have free coffee. In fact, I’m pretty sure their Easter invites this year were coffee packets (can you see why I love this church so much?). Were you to walk in the doors of Westport Sunday, you can find some free coffee and walk into the back of the auditorium to discover my brother from another mother running lights. If you hang around after you finish the Longbottom brew, you’ll see an old man* walk on stage and lead singing like a rock star. A little later, someone will share an excellent message which might even mention coffee (though that’s not what the morning is actually all about). It’s going to be a beautiful morning, and I’ll miss being a part of it. It’s a rough feeling to be away from Westport, but I am so thankful that the people I care about (including the old man at Westport) are so supportive of me getting uncomfortable to serve in Germany. 

Anyways, Thursday through Monday are holidays here, and they’ve left me alone with nothing to do other than practice standing (which I love doing). I’m a little bummed not to get another go on the walking machine or extra tough stretches with Alex that help my calves remember what it’s like to function normally. I’m also bummed in a bittersweet way that it’s my roommate’s last day here. She’s finally been released to go home. I have grown quite fond of this incredibly loving and compassionate woman who can’t speak my mother tongue but has shared love across language boundaries.

I’m so grateful to have gotten to know Lydia just a little bit even through my struggle to communicate well in German. She is incredibly patient with me, and is quick to serve me when she has no need or responsibility to; she just likes being kind. I can’t wait until I know enough German to call her up and communicate clearly just how much I appreciate the way she treated me.

Praise God Lydia is well enough to go home, and please keep praying that my calves will loosen up as I spend more time standing. 

*I’m very fond of this old man, but I reserve the right to call him old because it bothers him. He’s actually not old at all, and I’m so grateful for him and his family who have supported unwaveringly for years except for thirty seconds last Good Friday. (I was super emotional about knowing I’d be in Europe this year, and he came up to me completely serious to tell me he had received a message from God for me and said, “You can’t go to Germany, and you have to listen to me because I’m a pastor.”)