Getting used to my new Sidekick II; it has a couple of significant interface changes from the original. Billing and rebates are a secondary headache that I'm leaving until next week—that stuff is easier to deal with once I've made the device my own. It has a built-in camera (its predecessor had an awkward attachment), so maybe I'll become more of a shutterbug.
Tonight Annette, Heather, and Nate are over for Good Friday dinner and prayer. My flesh is weak, but my spirit is willing, so I'm going with the latter. Cleaning and cooking to be done between now and then. Haven't finalized the menu but thinking: garlic chicken breasts in white sauce over pasta, fresh breadsticks, walnut cranberry salad, and brownies a la mode. Should be another veggie in there; perhaps asparagus or baby carrots.
If there's ever a time I can have solid and deep assurance of being part of a story larger than my own, it's Holy Week. "Cramped personal drama" is the phrase John introduced me to for the alternative, and I can't even express how thankful I am not to be bound into that (even if I do get mired there on occasion). Not only are those spaces cramped and confining, but when I'm there, I'm trying to be God, which is immeasurably disheartening and draining because I know I'm not enough.
What if it's not all about me and my story? While initially a hard thing to admit and accept, wouldn't that be so amazingly, refreshingly freeing? There are so many ways the gospel saves us, but if this were the only way, it would be compelling enough.