I think the meaning of Easter has worn on me.
Don’t get me wrong.
I LOVE Jesus.
But can you hear something so much that it loses it’s effectiveness? As I read my daily devotionals that were published during the Holy Week up until Easter, it was completely apparent that Easter meant more to them than it does to me.
So, as I was rushing to Belk for clothes, Walmart and Kroger for Easter basket stuffers and Payless for shoes was I thinking about it being that day that Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss?
I was thinking however, how frustrated I was because Payless only had ONE register and the line was back down the size 10 aisle of ladies pumps….
I had in my phone’s calendar at the beginning of Lent to start a Lenten activity sponsored by Focus on the Family.
Didn’t get around to it.
Easter Bunny-1 Jesus-0
As Easter drew closer and I realized my time was dwindling to make a spiritual impact on my 4 kids to realize the impact of the most important time in Christendom, I vowed to make Holy Week matter.
But how could it when I didn’t feel the impact of it myself? I’ve heard the Easter story since I was a baby. Yes, Christ’s sacrifice was momentous. So how could it be so lost on me?
Holy week came and went.
Easter Bunny-2 Jesus-0
I remember being an early teen, sitting in the church I was raised in during the Christmas service. Literally it dawned on me what the term “virgin birth” meant. As the priest was giving his sermon about the babe wrapped in a manger, it became a revelation to me…oh my gosh…Mary hadn’t had sex. She was a virgin. Yet, was pregnant. How could it have taken me 13-14 years for that realization to hit me in the face?
How can I be 36 years old and not have the impact of God’s sacrifice become alive and active in my heart? The very thought of Christ hanging on a cross for my apathetic heart should put me on my face.
But it doesn’t.
And what about the 4 little hearts that I’m sculpting? That God blessed me with? Do I want them to feel the same? To think that Easter is about Cadbury eggs and if their ties match their sisters’ dresses? Is that what I’ve reduced it to? I didn’t even read them a book about Easter. The Tale of Three Trees would have been a perfect one. We didn’t read the Easter story, or watch Passion of the Christ or even the Veggie Tale Easter movie we have.
Easter Bunny-3, Jesus-0
And to beat all, as I walk into an overflowing sanctuary and glance back to the row my husband was supposed to save for me and see no where for me to sit… and be angry…
How can you NOT kill me on the spot with all of this sin in my heart?
Well, some times I don’t know the answer.
Most times, I don’t know the answer.
But I do know that when those thoughts try to make a nest in my heart that I need to focus on being thankful.
Focus on God’s goodness and grace and mercy. And fervently pray that God reveals His sacrifice to me all year long. That it takes root in my heart and grows deep.
And the fact that because He doesn’t strike me dead on the spot that He must have a plan for me despite myself.
With the reassurance that there’s always next Easter.
And the next day.
And the next breath.
To reflect His goodness.