The Book of the Gospels is encased in golden metal. It is heavy. I hug it to me until it is time to process down the aisle. Then I lift up high and carry it to the altar. I hold it until Father approaches and kisses it. I walk the Book to the table and stand it up for all to see.

Sometimes, the walk down the aisle is emotional. Today was the first time I have lectored since Ordinary Time. It is the first time I have lectored during Lent, which is the season with most personal significance for me. It is the first time I have lectored since my depression returned, since I have considered taking my life, since I have doubted the bounty with which I have been blessed, since I have hurt a child of God, myself, with distorted thinking. Today, that Book was heavy. As I walked down the aisle, I thought of Christ walking beside me, carrying his cross. Then I visualized His wooden cross burdening me. I thought of the one I love and prayed for him. My eyes burned with tears and my heart felt full of love and gratitude.