Good Friday

It's Good Friday.
I've been ill all week. And now my youngest has got a bug so bad he cant stop vomiting, I've had to put him in a nappy after a year of being toilet trained and I'm syringing 2ml of water into his mouth every ten mins because until I started doing that he couldn't even keep water down.
DH has gone out into the sunshine with the children who wanted to join him on our church's annual Good Friday walk of witness. Today, we believe, our Lord was crucified. Its a very significant day for Christians.
I am left in a room smelling slightly of sick, feeling a bit sorry for myself.
Then I remembered a photo of my youngest when he was a baby, not many months old. At our Palm Sunday service he pestered for a palm cross and clung onto it for hours. Such a new life he was then, with his cross. It sums up for me all that this weekend is about. Hope, new life, optimism for the future.
It reminds me that my stint in the sickroom  is not too much of a sacrifice. It's just another facet of motherhood. And I can look forward to Sunday when hopefully the whole family will be well enough to be able to celebrate Easter together.

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