RELEASE

When I spent Christmas on a pilgrimage journey, I had no idea that my Easter would come a little close to feeling like a tomb. As the hostel closed, I ventured off to stay with my other volunteer friend Laura for the holiday weekend. On Good Friday, she woke with a stomach bug. Perhaps you’ve had one, you know you feel pretty crummy all day, lie on the sofa, eat saltines and jello and after some rest you’re up on your feet again. Well, that is NOT how things are done in India. You go to the hospital and get pumped with 5 glucose IV bags and a plethora of shots and pills. After two nights sleeping in the hospital together, we were promised that she would be discharged on Easter morning. Hallelujah. We joked about leaving the tomb (a small hospital room with a bed and cot ) on Easter. How fitting. But by Sunday afternoon, this was no joking matter. Laura felt fine with the exception of being a bit tired. I mean she was even eating ice cream for pete’s sake. We were bored out of our minds. To pass the time we played games, learned each other’s entire life history (we are talking about the full length history of crushes since elementary school until present even), and when we just about to go insane Laura says, “We could put our feet on the wall.” Well, there’s some entertainment for you! We were the only patients (by we I mean she…I was just trying to be patient) on the entire ward so we were the only form of entertainment for the nursing staff of six—they seriously thought we were nuts. We sang Christmas songs with the nurses at their insistence and were constantly quizzed on our Malayalam.

On Sunday afternoon when I got up the nerve to ask the nurse, “So, when can we leave,” I was quite dismayed when she looked at me and said, “Tomorrow,” with the biggest smile. “WHAT! Are you kidding me. This is ridiculous. Why? She is fine.” Oops, the not so patient Katherine cried out! “Are you sad?” she inquired with an equally large flash of a smile. Sad maybe wasn’t the best way to describe how I was feeling. I was going insane in this small room, convinced that Laura must be get sick just by being confined to the four walls, and frustrated that they would not free us! I do not get angry very often, but there was no mistaking it this time. I was in a huff. I walked out of the room and out into the sunlight (it had been raining all week). I wanted to scream! Why would they keep us in here on Easter of all days? How unfair.

Suddenly it hit me. Not only was I stuck in this hospital room, but also I was still living in the tomb. The Lord had risen and left the tomb, but I was living like he was still behind the stone and shrouded in white cloth. I was seething in frustration and selfishly wallowing in the unfairness of our situation. I wasn’t living the Joy that was the celebration of the entire Easter season- the Resurrection, the conquering of the tomb, the joy in new life. Whether it was a hospital bed or not, we had a bed, we had food, we had friends. And, we had the Joy that this is not the end. No. Because of the gift that was given this day so many years ago, the beginning is to come and is far greater.