Waiting for the Curtain to Tear

It's Good Friday again.

Lent is slowly drawing to a close, and I find myself waiting for the presence of the Lord to break through.

I had a dream this morning about a variety of things. Woke up just enough at 5:40 a.m. to scrawl it into my journal before heading back to sleep.

The last line I scrawled reads, "The curtain tears today."

Such a strong impression from the dream.

I spent the morning in a park with my best friend. A river basin that provides 2/3 of the drinking water for our city. It seemed appropriate to be there, in the source of water today. Together we shared bread and wine, remembering the body broken and the blood poured out for us. We walked and talked and laughed and prayed together. Sipped starbucks, and ate the hot-crossed buns we picked up at a local bakery. Enjoyed the sunshine and wind, and the hopefulness that comes with a day where spring seems to be peeking out.

This afternoon I'm enjoying the quiet of an empty house. There are literally several hundred books within easy reach from where I'm sitting, curled up in the chair in the corner of my bedroom. The chair I sit in to read and pray and think, and to meet with Jesus.

These are the reading items I've pulled off the shelves, the things I'm planning to spend the afternoon with, meditating, writing, reading, thinking and praying:

• Today's newspaper
• The Last Eyewitness: The Final Week (Chris Seay & David Capes)
• Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion (Sara Miles)
• Francis & Clare of Assisi: Selected Writings
• The Gift of Pain (Philip Yancey & Dr. Paul Brand)

I'm spending the afternoon waiting for the curtain to tear. Reading and praying and listening and waiting. Seems a good way to spend it.