When My Thoughts Found a Voice
Dear Diary
This morning, Sister Mary Claire, Robert, and I were riding home from church in Robert’s pickup, with Mini nestled quietly between us. Father’s homily was about Jesus being sent to Herod, and the whole ride home was wrapped in that heavy silence that comes after hearing something that touches deep.
Robert spoke first. “Herod didn’t care who Jesus really was. He just wanted to be entertained.”
Sister nodded. “He mocked Him,” she said. “When Jesus wouldn’t perform a miracle, Herod put a fine robe on Him, just for sport.”
I didn’t say much. I could picture Jesus standing there—silent, worn, humiliated—and it made my stomach hurt a little. Mini let out the smallest sigh, like she could feel it too.
When we pulled up to the mailbox, Robert let the engine idle while we finished our thoughts. “That robe,” he said, “was a way to say, ‘Here’s your king,’ but it wasn’t reverent. It was cruel.”
Then Sister said, “I have a holy card at home—it shows Jesus standing before Herod, wrapped in that robe. It’s small, but it always struck me.”
I shook my head gently and told her I didn’t want to see it. Not because it felt too holy, but because it just felt too sad. I know Jesus endured it all out of love, but some scenes are so sorrowful I’d rather hold them quietly in my heart than look straight at them.
With a wave from Robert and our thank-yous, the morning ended, and the rest of the day opened up.
It turned out to be a beautiful afternoon. The sky was blue, the breeze was soft, and it felt like the kind of day meant for being outside. Mini and I went to the cave, just the two of us. I sat by the cool stone wall and finished my letter to Vreni. I gave it a stamp and told Mini we’d walk it to the mailbox tomorrow. She gave me a little look like she knew just what I meant.
Now the sun is gone and the sky’s turning silvery gray. Mini is curled beside my bed, half-asleep and warm. I’ll tuck this day away with a small prayer:
Dear Jesus,
Thank You for walking through silence and sorrow for us.
When the world laughed and mocked, You stood quiet and full of love.
Help me remember You in those moments, especially the ones that feel sad.
Bless Robert and Sister for the way they speak about You.
Bless Mini for her calm company and quiet heart.
Let tomorrow be gentle. Let me love You more, even in the hard parts of Your story.
And may my letter to Vreni bring a little light across the miles.
Amen.
Love,
Kathy
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