Easter Sunday

The resurrection of Christ bears potent meaning for me as I reflect on a certain personal breakthrough last Easter Sunday. I’m reminded of the spiritual journey God leads me through. I long to say a whole-hearted, “yes” to His invitations to me. . . of saying good-bye to those things that hold me back from living the full life He continually invites me to.

I notice “now” as I feel the cool morning air. I hear the rhythm and patterns of the woodpecker, and the owls, and the chorus of ducks. The morning is alive with energy. I’m reminded of the fullness of life.

This “now” is framed by my pasts with images of dressing up my young children in their frilly dresses, hats, white gloves, suits and ties. Strewn-out green plastic Easter grass sticky with marshmallow, sugar-coated, yellow chicks are reminders for me of the messiness of life.

I’m thankful for this time of celebration and how this Easter Sunday is framed for me; of the past, and of the now. . . of my time here on earth. . . of this place in history. . . of this stage in life. . . of the perspective I have.

May we be reminded of the fullness of life Christ died to give.