Good Friday 2019

I read a meditation on another homeschool mother's blog about how to treat Good Friday, a way that children (and adults alike) can understand: it was helpful to me.

On Good Friday, I can imagine that I have a loved one who is dying. My loved one is in his final agony. How would I behave? I would do what was necessary in my life, but not relish it. I would eat, but simply and without delight. I would take care of my children, clean up the house, change diapers, but I would be distracted with thoughts of my loved one's suffering and I would be fairly quiet. If I were able, I would call my loved one to say my goodbyes and offer words of comfort. This is similar to praying throughout the day and meditating in one's own mind about Jesus on the cross.

I explained this to our children over breakfast and then we went about a fairly quiet morning of doing some necessary chores. We did our final meditation, and let me say that all of our children over a wide age range greatly enjoyed this all of Lent. The meditations are orthodox and traditional Ignatian teachings.

We also made snacks to take to Church to help sustain the people who might be there for about five hours from the start of Stations of the Cross to the end of the Passion of Our Lord.

Chris took oldest three to Stations, Confession, and Passion, braving a Severe Weather Alert for heavy rain, lightening, and possible tornados that were supposed to hit right in the two to three o'clock hours.

John serving Stations

Photo taken from Liturgy Guy website,
my son in the close background

I stayed home with youngest three and did Resurrection Eggs with them before their nap times. Note that Resurrection Eggs purchased online are made by Protestants, so the theology is problematic in two places of note (the Eucharist and Salvation) so the Catholic parent will want to rephrase the read-alouds.

Lastly, in a cute moment remniscent of our aim to join in Jesus' suffering on this Good Friday . . . Three-year-old Thomas had pushed one-year-old David down on the kitchen floor, landing his head. So, while I was nursing the wailing baby, I told Thomas to stand in time out. David then ceased crying, looked up, and said in his toddler way, "Time out!" Then he slid off my lap, walked to the wall, and stood next to his brother in time out! Soon enough, big brother was hugging little brother and told him he was sorry. Melt Mama's heart!