Day 38: Maundy Thursday, March 20

The darkness has come again and I cry out to You, "My Lord, my Lord, why have you forsaken me?" I am so exhausted from this journey. The weight of this cross is taking all of my strength. The sadness is unbearable. I am all alone on a hill in the countryside of France.

The brothers carry the huge crucifix to the center of the candlelit church and place it on the floor. When the hour comes, I approach the cross on my knees, amidst the communion of pilgrims. Yet, I am so alone in my journey to You. When my turn finally arrives, I lean over and place my forehead on the nail in your right hand. And You speak to me.

In venerating the cross, I am deeply moved. Part of me dies with You, Lord. The brothers chant "Come, Lord, and open in me the gates of your kingdom." And I visualize "the veil of the temple torn in two pieces from top to bottom." Like the Centurion, I am amazed that You are indeed the Son of God and that You died for me!

I return to my place in the church and keep watch as others approach the cross. This is sacred. I am changed. I sit in stillness, trying to adjust to all that is happening within me.

Eventually, the last pilgrims embrace the cross. The chanting ceases. It is quiet.

From a distance, I watch as the brothers carry the crucifix away, just as the women of Calvary watched You being taken away, Lord. The weight of my cross lessens and the sadness is tolerable. I am not alone. You have not forsaken me.

I watch and pray. I wait for the new life that death will bring. I wait for the light of Easter morning.

Candace Kain Hayes