I didn’t manage to finish a blog last night – the first #lentowrimo post I’ve missed. My brain just wasn’t functioning – the third week of lockdown has felt exhausting and overwhelming. We were meant to be on holiday this week – at Word Alive with thousands of other believers. But here we are, still in the Vicarage and not in glamorous Prestatyn, hearing helpful Bible talks and meeting up with dear friends.
We’re here serving the parish online and over the phone, helping at the foodbank and wrangling Zoom with people who struggle with technology. We’re here following the way of Christ. We’re here, looking to our Lord, who trod the way of the cross, exhausted and overwhelmed. So this Holy Week, I’m hobbling along, aware of my fragility, like the daisies which have bloomed in the Secret Field this week. But the blessing of Holy Week is that it goes through the cross to the resurrection. The perishable becomes imperishable. The grass withers and the flowers fall but the Word of the Lord endures forever.
![[Text on yellow disc over picture of white/yellow daisies on green grass] For you have been born again, not of perishable seed, but of imperishable, through the living and enduring word of God. For, ‘All people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of the Lord endures for ever.’](https://thevicarswife.files.wordpress.com/2020/04/1peter1v23to25.jpeg?w=500)
The Vicar's Wife 