My historical tradition, mostly dormant these last several years; silent, barely stirring under the weight and pace of changes beyond compare in my memory;

Still that tradition, those beliefs, still my bedrock; “a house built on rock, less likely to crumble with tests and time.”

Something like that; something still keeps me hopeful and quietly believing and keen to instill in my children the same;

This time another cornerstone, bedrock of the faith. A person hung on a tree and left to die, made to believe he was despised, made so by those afraid, unwilling to accept the true words, The Truth,

All the same Light overcame the Darkness, life and love prevailed, through the most horrible circumstance and horrendous actions,

The Triduum recalls this final sequence of events, reminds us who God is,

LOVE.