There is something quite sacred and sweet in the tending of a grave. The Marys knew as they carried spice and linen to the garden tomb.   In the quiet of the night shift, I've tenderly prepared many who have passed...honorable work, but these grieving women, theirs was  holy work.   

 Today, I gave Rob's grave marker a thorough cleaning before decorating it for Easter Week. Soft cloth, car cleaner and elbow grease...an hour later his name sparkled in the afternoon sun. A lot of dirt collects in the crevices of the raised letters, making for a tedious task.

I was reminded that Jewish women all over the world are completing the cleaning of their homes this week for Passover. They started a few weeks ago, ridding each room of hidden leaven, the chametz, which symbolizes the haughtiness that lies within a person. It's a big deal in many Jewish homes; there's no hiding yeast or pride during Passover.

As I scrubbed the stubborn grime, I found it impossible to clear it all. Isn't that like our lives? Sin at some level is always present and it always takes a Savior to remove it. 

This week, I'm dwelling on the hidden places as I prepare for Resurrection Sunday. Searching for the deep ugly, I want it exposed, laid open before the Lamb.

 Cleanse me with hyssop and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Psalm 51:7

Remember these? I don't even know if they make sliding puzzles anymore, but my budget feels a lot like one of them.
I'm still in the process of making sound investment decisions to cover my needs for decades to come.  Rob taught me well: live frugally, give generously and save for the future and we did this effortlessly with a nice salary.
But death of the primary bread winner extracts the easy from all of this and who ever said living by faith would be without effort? 
Life insurance proceeds must be balanced with burial costs and Cobra plans with investment strategies. It has to last!
Don't get me wrong; Rob left me blessed with enough to cover all of my bills and most likely, much more. 
But I'm learning how to move this financial puzzle into the right order  and I'm still not sure which tile to move next. (Yes, I have a wonderful adviser, but fear often trumps wisdom.)
Bottom line...My lifestyle has changed and I find myself fighting shrinking trust and ugly pride.
Oh, I've been comfortably paring down to a simpler lifestyle; actually it doesn't look much different than before Rob's illness. And what if the necessity to do so is totally unnecessary, but still good for the soul?
But giving has taken a big hit! 
I love feeding orphans, drilling wells, commemorating special events with a lot of love tied with pretty bows. 
I'm blessed to have a lot of friends and my love language is...you, guessed it... gift-giving! 
I've had to skip a lot of opportunities to repay great kindness shown to Rob and me. That grieves me! Being raised with the notion that an invitation always warrants a carefully chosen present, I worry what my friends will think when they open up just a card or a token gift. Will people be insulted or worse, pity me? Will they think Rob didn't provide well enough? Will they still want to be my friend?
I'm flat embarrassed, proof that pride keeps rearing it's ugly head! 
I hate me for being more worried about my image than I am grateful for the blessing of friendship. I'm not even sure if I love giving for the right reasons!
I confess; I have struggled with skipping groceries and medications so I could purchase a nicer wedding gift or a fancier lunch. 
Total insanity, but I wonder if I'm the only one who plays this game?
However, human need is no game! A starving child needing a meal, a pregnant woman sickened by dirty water... no time for inaction, so I question my level of faith when I don't dive into my savings account to heal a little more of the planet and a little less of me. 
How do I balance first and third world issues on a fixed income?  
Seems like death uncovers a host of flaws and conflicts...only resolved by coming clean before a Holy God.