Don’t you love the Easter stories of how Jesus comes to the disciples, offering them peace, despite the fact that the doors are locked?  That little detail was no hinderance for our Lord, in His glorified state, that Easter evening. 
 
The cold reality that I don’t share this ability was made abundantly clear to me this chilly Sunday morning.
 
I had decided to make the most of this day of rest, having worked a twelve hour shift in the kitchen and being scheduled Sunday afternoon in our infirmary.  I stayed in bed until after seven! 
 
I gave myself just enough time to get dressed and unlock the doors for visitors while still being a little early for morning Office at 7:30. 
 
Thus, around 7:20, I came down the stairs from chapel and checked the door.  It seemed like it might already be unlocked.  Maybe Sr. Sara Marie had been there ahead of me, I mused.  I decided to test it to make sure, and opened the door. 
 
I stepped outside and let the door close.  I’d like to blame my foolishness on the fact that I had just crawled out of bed. 
 
Too late, I realized that the doors had NOT been unlocked.  I was locked out!
 
Now I had to make tracks or I’d be late for chapel!  I hurried off to another door for which I had a key fob so I could get in. 
 
In my sleepy haste, I headed west instead of east and ended up going the long way around the building! 
 
Finally, I made it inside out of the cool spring air and unlocked the doors.  I was in chapel about two minutes before morning prayer began, and all was well. 
 
This unplanned situation involving locked doors may have been a little blessing in disguise by which I got fresh air and exercise which I would have otherwise missed out on. 
 
Thank you, Lord Jesus, for the hidden gifts you give us, even through locked doors

As I prepared for confession today, a piece of spiritual advice came to mind.  I had heard it paraphrased years ago, probably by our youth director. 
 
St. Faustina shares these words, once directed to her: “Do not fight against a temptation by yourself but disclose it to the confessor at once, and then the temptation will lose all its force.”
 
I think the way it was put to me was that, when we confess temptations, “they lose their punch.” 
 
The recollection of this adage was good for me today as it encouraged me to bring a temptation I’d been fighting for a long time to this Sacrament of Mercy.  I hadn’t planned on doing so before this thought came to me during my preparation. 
 
I ended up having a very good confession and left with peace and courage.  I know a daily struggle still awaits me, but am hopeful that I’ll experience some of “the punch” being taking out of the temptation in this area of my life. 

​I pray that the graces of this confession may be sealed and may be fruitful in my life as I move forward “with the help of [His] grace.”

This morning’s reading from Acts recounts the Apostles’ miraculous departure from prison “during the night.”  By early morning, they were back to their task of teaching in the temple as charged by the angel. 
 
As I write this, I am nearing the end of my second consecutive night of working the 10 to 6 shift in our infirmary.  By early morning (after lauds and Mass), I hope to be napping!  😊
 
I wonder if the apostles were tired after their less than restful night, or if their excitement and enthusiasm for spreading the Good News drove out any feelings of fatigue.
 
In another account of imprisonment in the Acts of the Apostles (16:25), we hear of Paul and Silas spending their nocturnal hours in prayer and hymn-singing. 
 
It feels a bit backwards, when beginning the night shift, to say prayers like: “…watch over us when as we sleep” or “…grant us a restful night…”   It almost seems like I should switch these two “liturgical hours,” praying morning prayer at 10 p.m. and compline close to 6 a.m.
 
Nonetheless, whether I am sleeping normal hours or working through the night, I know that my heart should be lifted in praise, like the apostles’, to the one who knows “my resting and my rising” (Ps. 139).

Easter Turnabouts
 
Today, there were only a couple of us down for lunch at first.


We were at the table praying our Before Meal prayers when, suddenly, I realized, “We shouldn’t be praying the Angelus; it’s Regina Caeli time! 
 
Consequently, in the middle of the prayers, we made an abrupt switch and began praying the Marian antiphon for Easter instead. 
 
As I write this, I am realizing that this is not the only abrupt change or turnabout during this season.  In fact, this morning’s gospel account of the Road to Emmaus includes such a change. 
 
At the beginning, two travelers were “looking downcast,” and discussing with dismay the horrible events that had happened the previous Friday.  By the end, they had returned to Jerusalem with joy, hurrying back to share their wonderful news. 
 
Sudden transitions from terrible sorrow to exuberant joy are deeply embedded into our experience of this time of year.  No wonder the Church gives us a whole octave every year to delve into this great mystery!
 
I pray that during this beautiful Easter Season you may encounter our Risen Lord, who is truly the reason for our joy, finding Him “in the breaking of the bread,” in prayer, and “along the way.”
 
Have a blessed Easter Season!