By all normal standards (or at least my own), I totally blew Easter week this year. It came and went without a single picture worthy to put in a scrapbook or timeless moment to write about in a journal, and I’m left worrying that my kids will be in therapy one day (or worse yet, on the Dr. Phil show) because of all the things I failed to do.
We usually spend the week before Easter preparing in order to make it full of special memories, but this year everything went awry, and I simply juggled the urgent things that came until I found myself putting the turkey in the oven Easter morning, surprised that I’d managed that. Somehow though, despite my lack of planning, my running out of forks (which I’m convinced are in my husband’s truck), and my forgetting to cook the lamb (yes, I did), Easter day was amazing. I spent it with those I’m blessed to call family and I was surrounded by life, which after all is what it’s all about. And I learned something. This Easter was a lot like my own life. My long line of mishaps, missed opportunities, and downright failures became something beautiful when God showed up.
I know that not all of you share my faith, and I understand because even I too often forget what my faith is all about and the power it holds. I forget how the God who raised a body to life also can and does resurrect the dead places in my heart and my life brought by fear, pain, loneliness, rejection, and loss. He took my complete failure as a young wife and gave me a captivating marriage. He took my pitiful efforts to be a perfect mom and gave me amazing children. He took my lost hopes and unfulfilled dreams and gave me a life I wouldn’t have known how to dream. Easter reminds me that God not only traded his life for mine so many years ago, but he continues to do so daily if I let him “because God both raised up the Lord and will also raise us up by His power” (1 Corinthians 6:14).
I don’t know what you need to trade or what needs resurrecting in your life; maybe it’s a marriage that’s barely hanging on, a relationship with your teenager or grown child that’s been cold for too long, or maybe even just joy for the endless tasks at hand. What I do know is that there’s hope and that it extends far beyond Easter morning.
It’s the reason Easter is so much more to me than a flurry of egg hunts, Easter bunnies, and way too much candy. It is a reminder that I’m okay, or at least that I will be, no matter what. It’s proof that all that is dead can live again and that I can trade in all my failures for God’s abundance. He’ll do the same for you just for the asking.
Easter isn’t a day. It’s a life. Enjoy every moment of it!