Holy Tomato Sunday

I have stayed home on Palm Sunday! I went to a reception last night at church and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Now I know I am sick! When I don’t want to talk to people, or feel too preoccupied to talk about God I AM sick. But I am able to sit up, take nourishment and befriend my laptop in the silence of my little house on a beautiful morning with the sun shining and a wonderful breeze from the patio.


J’s cancer is a bit more advanced than we first thought. The thought of her going through chemo is distressing. It is so hard to watch someone you love have to go through that, and the anticipation, I think may be much worse than the reality. Also I have had bronchitis for almost a month. I have had 2 bouts of anti-biotics . The prairie fires out west of town and the pollen counts have not been helpful either. I do feel a bit better this morning.

So what does it say of Palm Sunday, the Passion, Holy Week or even life in general? I am not sure. I am sure if I were well or had to preach I would find some great analogical truth to draw out for my life. But the simile portion of my brain is not working. I know that there are ‘Blue Christmases’ for those who are struggling with loss or depression in Christmastide. But I am not sure I can come up with a ‘blue’ Holy Week. It somehow just doesn’t have the same ring to it!

At least the tomatoes are growing in their pots on the patio. I even have some fair-sized fruit on them. For some reason tomato plants seem to speak of all kinds of faith. They are the signs of reality that impinge upon my drug-befuddled consciousness. They sit in the Texas sun and soak up God’s creation and do not return without having done what it was purposed to do. They do not need to spin or weave. They just produce little flowers that become fruit which become the luscious red globes that I adore. Maybe I just need to be a tomato for a while.