Well, Easter never tasted so sweet- and boy do I mean literally!!

I must say in the midst of some of the most profound services this week, our Maundy Thursday annual dinner liturgy with actual foot-washing, and our Good Friday alternative experiential stations of the cross, it was extra excruciating not to be able to fully partake with of the community. And compounding it, out of state family happen to be in town and I had made especially sure that I was pouring my new brother-in-law’s favorite type of wine- but I could not raise a glass of the same contents with him; sure I had the sparkling water going, and could clink a “cheers,” but it really did feel different at a most ancestral level- like medieval folk needing to drink from the same bottle to forge better trust and of course ensure neither would poison the other- OK so I get a little ridiculous.

But what a difference this day makes. To toast together, to break the same pita bread – my brother and sister-in-law hosted a most scrumptious Greek-themed Easter supper- it really was splendiforously delightful- the full blanket of foods laid before us, before me, feeling like I was living again Peter’s dream.

In the end, this month-and-a-half dietary adventure free of sugar, dairy, wheat, caffeine and alcohol has expanded my culinary horizons. I discovered foods I truly enjoy that I would never have considered before. I wound up losing some 7 or 8 pounds of pudge padding. The act of chewing slowly and chewing more, sensing and grateful for the fully flavor of things, this is a way of being that I hope oozes out to more and more parts of my life. I also got a glimpse at the power I let certain foods have on my emotional health- the reward, or the “need,” in order to get through the long haul; and guess what, it so happens I had plenty of long hours this season and made it through probably better than I might have...

Tom & I wrote a song for this morning’s service, with the chorus, “This day... Is the day... That the stone rolls away...” I couldn’t help but share with a buddy after sound check, a parody that just came to me, “This day... Is the day... That the scone rolls my way!” My wife, the ever asker of timely questions, blurts this one out, “Would you do it again?” Well, maybe, but this day the scone rolls my way!

So, Holy Week has begun now... which means this my dietary adventure is coming to a close. I can honestly say I am feeling a heightened sense of anticipation for Easter. As cheesy as it sounds (or maybe not so cheesy in my case), the idea of "longing for something so much I can taste it" has now found a new place in my body. Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday & Good Friday have always been powerful chances to remember with my faith community what LIFE is all about- so this year I'm even more eager to discover what it looks like to walk that way through the cross, to the tomb, and then to let that stone roll away...

OK, so lesson learned: don't ever doubt the mystique of Dark Horse! We were enjoying a dinner break with family this past studio night, and my "evil twin" took absolutely every opportunity to point out what he was relishing- relishing the things I have chosen to relinquish this Lent; of course, hats off to my dear sister-in-law who engaged in some yummy culinary creativity in order to have before us a feast that I could mostly partake of. But leave it to the DH to lay the BUTTER on the BREAD thick, pour and swig a tall glass of amber ALE, then scoop copious amounts of gourmet ICECREAM onto warm homemade BROWNIES next to his hot cup of JOE- not that I noticed or anything!

OK so it's been exactly 3 weeks since starting my dietary adventure and I have some observations:

SURPRISED...
with my ability to actually keep it; I work at Fresh & Easy headquarters where samples of everything I'm not eating come floating by almost every minute; and, seriously, the buyers when checking out suppliers or the competition, have a lot extra food - so did they have to be checking out ice-creams - including Häagen-Dazs?

STEWING...
and mindful of being in a season- very powerful to be reminded at every meal, a knowing that is both body and soul; I don't know if it has been my Protestant up-bringing, or my over-compensating theology-of-abundance- that frowned on fasting or lumped the taking away of things with punishing penance, but I have to say there is real freedom in saying "no" - I'm realizing how much is packed into so little.

SO SO
on the toxin release- I guess I had pretty high expectations for a dramatic flushing of my system- an increased ability for focus, for insights and all those good things; but then talking last night to my wife, I was reminded- oh, yeah, when she did her initial work, it was a 4-week prep and then a very intense 3-week deal (7 weeks!)- so, me not feeling that much different with a less drastic diet change is expected, I guess. And, what do you know, me needing to pull a bunch of overtime at work, getting less sleep, actually still effects my energy level- hmmm.

SAVORING...
every bite, chewing more slowly, exploring yummy ideas I wouldn't have thought of doing, like broccoli with fresh grated ginger over it (my wife's brilliant, really)- this has been a new joy.

SIPPING
that beer in front of me- it turns out, my evil twin has not quite lived up to the title yet- I'm afraid he's been a little too considerate, hasn't quite flexed his flaunting muscles- (sorry, Bud, to burst the "Dark Horse" mystique)! Course we do have at least half of Lent left. Maybe he's just waiting...

OK, so today is Ash Wednesday, the day our Lenten adventure begins. This year promises to be quite different for me from years past since I’m finally doing something that will require much more intentionality: a diet free of sugar, dairy, wheat, caffeine and alcohol. Now before you say the same thing my vegetarian work buddy said when she heard it, “shoot me now!”, I’m not being absolutely strict. I will still be eating any and all fruits (so, enjoying naturally occurring sugars) as well as sprouted-wheat bread (the Ezekiel 4:9 type), which avoids processed wheat flour.

I’m curious what this season will hold for both my body and soul. I understand a cleanse-like experience, which I’ve never done before, allows your body to release stuck toxins, which has enormous health benefits- one of which is better focus or mindfulness. I really liked what my wife was saying last night in our pillow talk, that she hopes the cleansing makes room for the new.

My only regret is that last night, on Fat Tuesday, I needed to work late and did not have the wherewithal to get myself a double dark wheat ale along with an ice cream soaked, fully loaded fudge brownie- course my digestive system is probably thankful I didn’t .

OK, so I was moved to tears of gladness for the presidential result; so much so, I plan to write a hand-written letter to President-elect Obama-

It’s so overwhelming a release- like 400 years of prayers are suddenly fulfilled.

I feel convicted to let him know that as a politically left-leaning, white Christian elder at my church, I fully support his promise of working with those he disagrees with. While I may be a bit giddy with the idea of him in the oval office along with a strong Democratic majority in both houses (finally, real family values of peace with justice has a chance!), I deeply know that one of the biggest follies of the current administration has been the “my way or no way” approach to governing.

The conservative friends I know and love and with whom I often disagree, will still have ideas/solutions that objectively make a lot of sense as we tackle the massive mess this country and the world is in.

So far, in his selection of advisors, Obama appears to be selecting well-respected, well-educated experts not given to partisan extremism; so, my hopes for constructive debate are high- the challenge will be for Obama to maintain the tone he already set in his campaign as he takes on the toughest job in the world.

I also need to tell him my prayers are with him for safety, for discernment, for humility, for strength and grace.

And all this amazing uplift is tempered by my disbelief at Prop 8 passing (just barely). It’s, of course, quite personal since I have dear friends and fellow church members who stand to lose legal status as spouse and/or parent. It’s one thing to debate views on homosexuality and whether scripture condemns it – that’s a whole other entry – but it’s quite another thing to force the secular state to strip rights from law-abiding citizens who are choosing to live in committed relationships. I really thought more Jesus-loving people would recognize the wisdom of church/state separation and have the grace not to impose one interpretation of scripture, that is not universally held by Christians, on all people, regardless of their beliefs.

The Prop 8 amendment will never stand the test of time since it is so obviously a violation of civil rights. In terms of timeline, I just thought we we’re closer to the March on Washington instead of just getting to the place where we stay seated in the “wrong” section of the bus. God’s promised justice will come rolling like mighty waters, I’m confident- I’m just so saddened by the delay- “How long, dear Savior, O how long?”

Last night my brother and I hashed out some cello parts in time for today’s cello session; it’s an intriguing multi-level balancing act, this “producing together” thing, especially when it comes to the cello parts we write out. I LOVE the cello! –the canyon-wide range, soaring heights, smooth deeps as well as the jagged edges. In our context for Zehnder, it’s that third vocal, that third stringed instrument, the magic three -somebody stop me before I start calling it the holy spirit of this band’s trinity :0/ All that to say, my challenge is to write less; I’m easily swayed into letting the cello burst all over the song; and yet, it needs to breathe and be more than just the long sustained notes that Adrienne has affectionately referred to as “laying eggs.” It needs to add and not detract; and, the real challenge, be a part that both Tom and I agree does all that. Now THAT’s walking the wire over Niagara, ain’t it? But I must admit, it’s a real pleasure to strip away all the really good ideas and wind up with the essence of what needs to be there; it’s an adventure I would not want to take with anyone else, not that anyone else could stand to go with me; thank God for twin brothers!

It’s been about a month since Chet, my brother-in-law died at 45 of cancer and over a year since my dad died of another cancer… life has taken on a certain immediacy; just the other day, mom had me and my brother going through dad’s closet looking at shirts/shoes I might need- always thought it convenient we (that’s dad and his two sons) were roughly the same size. I had completely put out of my mind that my mom still had all these clothes that my brother and I had jokingly referred to as “must-steals” when dad would hold it up out of the gift box on some Christmas morning. We told stories; many were the familiar and a surprising number were newly delicious. The night ended with me muscling hangers and bags heavy with memories, “stealing away with the must-steals,” a pun I can just hear my dad saying. And I realize as I write this, I have managed to wear something of dad’s every day since. I guess I always will.