this is holy week
It’s Holy Week—a sacred and beautiful week celebrating the life, sacrifice, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
I had big plans to celebrate this week. I wanted to dive into scripture and study His words— really sink into His teachings. I wanted to carve out extra time to share these stories with my children, to help them understand just how loved they are by our Savior.
But Holy Week turned out a little differently than I expected. Rather than extra time spent in the scriptures, I’ve had less. This week I’ve struggled with motherhood, anxiety, and a killer migraine that all but knocked me out. I didn’t even get my newsletter sent to you on time. Everything I did this week felt half-finished and frustrating, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn't discouraged.
“But it’s Holy Week!” I said to myself. “Why don’t I feel holy?”
A few days ago, I was trying to study my scriptures and it was not going well. I was tired and grumpy and my kids kept interrupting me. But just before I called it quits, I turned the page to see my handwriting scrawled above a highlighted verse calling me to exercise faith:
Exercise: to train, to practice, to carry out in action; habitual activity; to acquire skill; to exert repeatedly; to develop.
And then, right next to that definition, I’d added the words: Exercise isn't easy.
I ran my finger across the page and smiled as tears filled my eyes. It felt like a little love note from heaven reminding me that every effort to draw closer to Him matters, no matter how small or futile it seems. It’s always time well spent because it’s time spent with Jesus. Exercising my body isn’t easy. In fact, I usually end up sweaty and a little sore. But it’s invigorating and life-giving. So why do I expect the exercise of my faith to be any different? Exercise isn’t usually comfortable—that’s the whole point! And you certainly don’t see instant results.
It’s all about practice.
It’s all about the process.
Finding that note in my scriptures reminded me of a quote from J.D Peabody that I’d read in his book, Perfectly Suited: The Armor of God for the Anxious Mind:
“I am not a ‘process’ person. I much prefer closure and completion. This ties back to my anxiety around being good enough. In my brain, unfinished equals unacceptable and outside of God’s will. If God wants me to arrive at the destination of being mature and holy, so my thinking goes, anything short of that feels wrong and inadequate. My options are then limited to either perfection or failure. Getting to where I’m going becomes urgent, and I need to run—not march—to the finish line.
The incarnation of Christ settles me back down. God put his stamp of approval on process when he sent his Son into the world as a baby. The angels may have declared ‘Peace on earth’ to the shepherds, but there were still three decades to go before the fulfillment of that peace on the cross. It was not instantly achieved or implemented. The majority of Jesus’s life on earth was spent maturing into an adult, ‘[growing] in wisdom and stature’ (Luke 2:52). He came to bring salvation, but he had to slog through adolescence first.
That should tell us something. If experiencing all the developmental stages of life didn’t taint Christ’s holiness—if a slow unfolding was part of God’s pre-ordained plan for him—that means God doesn’t expect me to rush my way through growth. Being a work under construction isn’t a concession; it is part of a divine design.”
I woke up early to run this morning, and as I ran through the quiet desert, the sun cut across the mountains, bathing everything in gold—including me. As I looked around at His creations and listened to the rhythm of my pounding feet and the breath in my lungs, I felt it.
“This is Holy Week,” I said to myself. “And I feel holy.”
When Jesus Christ chose to come to this earth and live a mortal life—a beautifully slow and sacred unfolding—He showed us the path to true joy. He marked it. He walked it. He left room for us to exercise beside Him. And because He died and miraculously rose again, we get to experience His holiness every single day of the year. Every week becomes holy the moment we allow Him in. Every new day blossoms with opportunity, hope, and love—so much love. It’s the springtime that never ends.
Jesus Christ met me in the middle of my messy week, and I know that He will always, always meet you in yours.
What a holy promise. What an absolute miracle.
Happy Easter, my friends!
