Holiness I Didn’t Plan For: A Triduum Journey to the Cross

I entered the Paschal Triduum with a holy curiosity about how I could make it prayerful and impactful, not only for me, but also for my husband and children. My biggest hiccup, once again, was my self-reliance. I was going to make it prayerful, and the souls of my family would benefit from my effort (imagine a flexing muscle emoji).

But I was reminded of the true, loving, and sacrificial service of motherhood within minutes of waking up, all thanks to a chocolate granola bar. My oldest came into my room earlier than normal and told me she was hungry. Like any good mother, I grabbed her a granola bar, told her to enjoy her snack, and then optimistically encouraged her to fall back to sleep before I climbed back into bed myself.

As I laid in the darkness, I mentally prepared to enter the Triduum journey with stillness and silence. Once again, my self-reliant self had a plan: no social media, limited screen time for everyone, and an overall quiet vibe, whatever that meant. I was feeling pretty good about my plan.....except my three-year-old, hyped up from the chocolate in her granola bar, had taken out the bin of instruments. It was only 6 a.m., and my house was filled with the sound of a tambourine and jingling bells. So much for silence!

My day had officially begun. That’s when I noticed the trail of chocolate granola across my living room floor, the chocolate all over my daughter’s face, and the real kicker, the chocolate smudges all over her primarily white sheets. Chocolate? Really, Abby? What was I thinking? Oh wait! This all happened before 6 a.m., so there really wasn’t much thinking going on.

Meanwhile, my laundry room looked like a war zone. I threw the chocolate-covered sheets into the washer and was reminded of the two loads in queue to be washed and the plethora of towels waiting to be folded. It felt overwhelming, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it when there was breakfast to be made.

After breakfast, my husband and I sat down for family prayer.  I was determined for us all to encounter Jesus in Scripture. As we were attempting to read through the story of the Last Supper in Matthew’s Gospel, one of my children was insistent upon being pushed in the swing and the other child was upset that we weren’t reading picture books. I just wanted to pray, but instead, I found myself laughing. What was going on today?!

The chaos paved the way for a beautiful conversation about Holy Week and the next few days ahead. My husband helped me realize that I was trying to achieve my definition of holiness by controlling our journey with Jesus to His Cross, instead of allowing Jesus to lead the way by asking me to embrace my daily mortifications.

Jesus, lead the way to the Cross by showing me how to embrace my daily mortifications.

At the Last Supper, Jesus washes the feet of each of His disciples. It was a beautiful act of love and service. He says in John 13:15, “I have given you a model to follow, that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

Each sock, shirt, and pair of pajamas I folded and put away was my unique way of modeling Jesus as He washed the disciples’ feet. Each dish I washed after lunch, or clump of chocolate granola I rescued from the carpet, was my unique way of modeling Jesus’ act of service. Each moment of surrender, whether that meant listening to a 6 a.m. “concert” instead of starting the day in silence, or reading picture books instead of Scripture, was my unique way of modeling Jesus’ love.

I entered the Triduum with a holy curiosity about how I could make it prayerful and impactful, but my soul didn’t need my effort, it simply needed my surrender.

Dear Jesus,

Lead me to the Cross with holy surrender. Fill me with humility and peace as I allow myself to follow Your will instead of my own plan. Give me the grace to embrace my vocation and receive each moment of service with loving arms. As we enter the holiest of days, may my suffering and discomfort be joined with You during Your Passion and Crucifixion, trusting that Your Resurrection is on the horizon. Amen.

Until next time, your sister in Christ,

Abby