I hope that you all have had a wonderful week, and had an even better holiday this past Sunday. I can’t complain. My Easter was busy, but wonderful. It was a good kind of busy. It was a kind of busy where even though it was a lot of work to get this house presentable without letting it go dip back into chaos beforehand, I was glad that I had plenty of family coming over to celebrate the Easter holiday. It kind of made the cleaning worth the effort. It was the kind of busy where I wasn’t afraid of doing the cooking this year. Somehow, I knew that it was all going to turn out OK. I did sweat it out a bit when my ham was slow to cook in the beginning. BUT, it tasted great. And it was the kind of busy where I served in nursery at church, and got to tell a crop of small, smiling faces about Jesus and how He is risen.
Can I get an amen?
I didn’t have the time to jump on here for Easter. Like I already mentioned, it was rather busy. I wish that I could have written to you about all of the things that I felt stirring in my heart. I looked at my husband at the end of the day and my eyes started to fill with tears. I’m not exactly sure why, but at least they were joyful tears. OK, I kind of know why – I have gotten somewhat soft these past few years. A Dr. Pepper as a gift from my three-year old almost did me in. Soft, soft, soft I tell ya. I had a wonderful day, and my children appeared to also have had a wonderful day. Something was different about this year. I think that the difference was all of the things I feel as though my eyes have been opened to; how I could see God’s supplication in my life, even in the tiniest facets. It was so touching.
I wasn’t able to be in church on Easter Sunday, but that didn’t leave me feeling shortchanged at the opportunity to reflect on the magnitude of Easter Sunday. The cross is the crux of our faith. If Jesus didn’t die on the cross, if we didn’t have a new covenant with God, if Jesus hadn’t risen again – if even one seemingly insignificant detail from the events of calvary were out of place, it would change everything. I feel like each year, I am granted the chance to approach the crucifixion from a new angle. But it ultimately comes back to the same truth: we put Him there. He suffered and bore agony for our sake, in our place. But, He overcame. He made all things new again. We are new again at the remembrance of this truth. I don’t care how many times you have read the scriptures, or heard the gospel preached. Sometimes, it still renders you powerless, in awe and besotted with grief, thanksgiving and love. Sometimes, even for a believer who is 15 years in, it still makes you feel newly minted to hear and read the truth.
I rush around, trying to bake the perfect ham, or worry about overcooking the potatoes and if the bread will rise in time to get it in the oven. I worry about dyed eggs, I worry about Easter egg hunts. I worry about the things that don’t matter. Of course, I want to experience those things with my children. But the only relevant and pertinent tradition that I and they must keep is recognizing and thanking Jesus for all that He did on the cross. For thanking our heavenly father for a new, seamless covenant and relationship with Him. Indeed, what is my life worth? What is their’s worth? What is your’s worth?
It seems so silly, all that we get to do while our savior endured so much. But His final acts before that moment were done in joy. Joy in His suffering and broken body. And ultimate submission. The cross has left me with so many emotions this year. I am anxious to see where they take me.
In the meantime, I need to perfect my ability at taking pictures of my little rascals that don’t turn out blurry. They are ridiculous sometimes!
Little stinks. Hoping to be writing to you all more this week! And hoping that you have a great Wednesday!!