Tomb Day

Tomb Stone (Jerusalem)

Things have been sort of heavy around here lately, with Lent, and Jesus dying and everything. Easter-wise, I think we’re in “tomb time” at this point. It’s where Jesus is physically dead from execution. Everybody in Jesus’ world has had a super crappy day. They put him in the ground, and seal it up. He’s dead. Their hearts and dreams are broken and shattered.

Jesus is in paradise or Hades… or maybe someone should explain that to me…hang on… Okay. Checked on that. If that bit is confusing to you too, try this article. (Then get back here, before I lose my train of thought.)

Anyway, I’m writing this from home. No. I should say, I’m writing this from a place where my mother lives, and where I spent a few college breaks, and one horrid 6 week summer stint before I got married almost 16 years ago. So, actually not home at all. There’s a dislocation all over.

My mom still lives here. It was her late husband’s house. A guy who wasn’t my father.

There’s a guy here, now. I call him Jerry, she calls him fiancé. They met on the computer, in February. I thought he would go back to his place by now, but it’s almost 11pm, and he’s still hanging around. We’re slated to see him, at his place, tomorrow, and most of Sunday, here. Trust me, it’s weird to be in my head, right now.

It feels much like I’m the protagonist in a very awkward Ben Stiller movie. But I haven’t had a chance to figure out my lines. The plot is sketchy. The characters are underdeveloped. I wouldn’t be able to explain it all, even if I tried. But, this picture may reveal much of what I can’t. (I’m the one on the left.)

(me with mom)

Kind of funny picture, no? Laugh for me, if you can.

So, I ate my feelings today. Which, in this case, means about a half a cup of Rasinets, and other sugar and carb no-nos. It feels like Tomb time. Things seem ruined, or broken, and altogether not right. I will acknowledge this.

I won’t shove it aside, or pretend I can’t feel it, see it, smell it. Life can really suck. (That’s a theological term. It means…oh nevermind.)

YET! I know this thing. Nothing can keep the dawn from coming.

I really like Easter and Spring. And well, life. Rebirth is also–excellent. Brighter days are ahead. Death has no victory. The tomb cannot keep us. Even the tomb of discontent, or broken dreams.

We are poised to celebrate life and renewal. Come, Lord Jesus.

I usually encourage responses to my posts. But this time, I’m just letting it all hang out without a care of that. You can do what you’d like, I just need to sit here for a while.


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Spark My Muse

Lisa Colón DeLay writes often on matters of the attending to the inner life, creating a beloved community, spiritual formation, and consciousness. She is also a designer, teacher, speaker, and host of the weekly broadcast Spark My Muse since 2015. Lisa is Latina (born in Puerto Rico) and holds an MA in Spiritual Formation and is the author of "The Wild Land Within" (Broadleaf Books) and other books.

7 thoughts on “Tomb Day”

  1. I’ve been through some pretty crazy real life Ben Stiller movies, and wow, I can relate. On the plus side, sometimes the sequels in real life actually get a little better. I’ll be praying for you this weekend.

  2. I’m one who spent many years living in a cave. The good news for all of us is that 2,000 years ago, Jesus came out of the tomb. Before His ascension, He made one last promise, “I’ll be back.”

    Thanks for sharing and have a Happy Easter!

  3. I liked you the first time I saw you, on the way to the Chinese restaurant, in the Delay Van!

  4. So yesterday, I went to my in-laws’ church (more traditional than I’m used to, not sure it qualifies as liturgical), and in my discombobulated attempt to keep up I went ahead and read THAT version of the Apostles’ Creed before I knew what I was saying. (“…descended into Hell…”) And I don’t believe it, but I can’t prove it’s wrong. So was I wrong to say it? Yes, yes I was. But was I lying? I don’t even know for sure it’s wrong!

    What do I need to repent of? Mindless practice of ritual (as opposed to mindful), I guess. Dangit.

  5. Boy, I have known and know “tomb times” – earlier in life, one or two of them were reeeeeally long and it was only in post tomb time that I realized that Jesus had been in there with me. Now when tomb time arrives, we talk – and these times are blessedly shorter. I find myself liking getting older. :)

    PS: I made up a brochure about praying for your children and handed it out to my “congregation.” They love it. Discussions and prayer times always come back to the children their actions have harmed – their tomb time. You and your blog has touched a whole new audience. Love you bunches and blessings.

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