Easter

It was the Saturday before Easter, and there was much to do, but by the end of the day, much of it was done. The kids needed showers. Lily can manage on her own, but Lewi needs assistance. After he is clean he always begs for more time under the water; for once I acquiesced, because I was in the middle of making Easter desserts, and I needed just a little time to get things into the oven. A few minutes later, as I put the cake in the oven, I heard Lewi: “Mom, I’m bleeding.” The tone of his voice made me take it the stairs two at a time. There was blood flowing from his left thumb at an alarming rate, and I instantly knew that he decided to touch his sister’s razor. It took three separate changes of gauze to get it to slow down.

Once the kids were in bed, I put out Easter baskets. One of our cats is addicted to Easter grass and will go to crazy lengths to ingest it, so I try to put them where he will not access them. At three a.m., as I listened to him retching, I concluded that I had misjudged. I got out of bed and cleaned it up. Stupid cat.

Then, on the first day of the week, at early dawn, the phone rang. Of late daughter Kelsey has been the Queen of the Unwise Choices, and her most recent mistake will prevent her from being home for Easter. So we talk on the phone, confident in the hope that soon we will put this present sadness behind us and move forward.

The younger kids woke and were excited to unpack their Easter baskets. “I love the Easter bunny!” said Lewi. I decided to take credit for my work: “The Easter bunny doesn’t bring these; I do.” He’s momentarily disappointed, but recovered quickly at the sight of his loot.

After breakfast, I re-bandage Lewi’s thumb and then rush to get ready myself. I hustle out the door only a few minutes behind schedule.

On the way to church I am reminded that at some point during the week, my windshield cracked. It’s in an odd place, and there’s no sign of what caused the crack. I know I need to get it taken care of, but not today. Put it on the to-do list for next week.

The next hour both the choir and the bell choir rehearsed, and then worship began. Our congregation’s theme for Lent has been “washed in the blood.” Each week we would pick up a red ribbon to remind us of Jesus’ love, sacrifice, suffering… Today we traded in our scarlet stripes for ribbons of white. We celebrated communion and concluded worship, as is our tradition, with the singing of the Hallelujah Chorus, a piece of music that speaks to my soul in ways that I cannot begin to explain.

I do not always understand the ways of this world or the actions of the people in it, and I cannot begin to explain the ways of God. My own faith is a mystery to me, and some days I wonder what I really believe. But Easter isn’t about fact or explanation, but about hope. On Easter we look past today—with its blood and its puke, its cracks and brokenness, its temptations and mistakes—and we remember that these things will end, and that we will again see those we love. We are able to see that sadness will end, and that beauty can come out of crisis. And we can see that, just when we think it’s all over…something new begins. 

And he shall reign forever.Hallelujah!