I am at home today.  I am not at Church.  I am not participating in the Good Friday solemn liturgy or the Stations of the Cross.  I am home.  I am tending to two little energetic boys while trying to keep my feet up and the pressure off of my sciatic nerve.  I am sad that I cannot be there but I am grateful just that I am here.  Here.  Here.  Here.  I am here because Jesus died for me and for my sins.  Not only am I here, but hopefully someday I will be there.  There.  There.  There.  In the Kingdom of Heaven and all because of the sacrifice that God’s only Son made for me.  For my sins.  How can I possibly let this day pass without showing how incredibly grateful I am?  How can I possibly not spend this day sharing tradition and faith with my precious little ones so that they, too, become aware of the awesome sacrifice that Jesus made for us?  I can’t.  And so we are carrying on the best way we can in our little domestic church, listening to the Divine Mercy Chaplet (over and over again), praying the Stations in our own way, reenacting the events of Holy Week with felt, all while reflecting on the power of love and sacrifice, hoping that in these little acts, we are showing Jesus how incredibly grateful we truly are.