I cannot remember a time when Easter was not my favorite holiday. In my early years maybe it was because I loved Spring so much. Being a Pennsylvania gal, sometimes the season arrived too late for my satisfaction. At nearly the first chirp of a robin, I'd be asking my dad if there'd be any more snow. He'd always laugh and reply that there'd probably be more. Much to my disappointment he was always right.
As my relationship with Christ grew, I loved Easter for more than just the season of the year but for the reminder of what Christ had done in my life. From death to life. Spiritually, with the new birth but almost literally after the birth of Seth.
This year meant even more.
I contemplated the words of Michael Card's "Love Crucified Arose," And these words especially spoke to me.
"Love crucified arose
And the grave became a place of hope
For the heart that sin and sorrow broke
Is beating once again"
The grave became a place of hope? I stood by my mother's bed just a few short months ago and cradled her head in my arms while she took on new life. I'll be honest as I left her bedside and walked down the halls of that dimly lit ICU, I wasn't feeling hope-ful. Oh, in my head, I knew that her body was free of this world's pain, sorrow and fear but in my heart I felt hope-less. Alone. I dropped to a chair in the waiting room and didn't know where to go or what to do next. Lost.
I"ve been thinking about the disciples of Christ. These were men who had given up everything and placed their hopes and dreams in a Man for whom they thought would save the world. But they'd just watched him die a horrible death. Not just the death of a common man but that of a criminal.
I'll bet they knew a little about feeling alone and lost.
In a few short days though, the disciples experienced the unbelievable--the resurrection of their Lord in physical form. I'll never see Mom in physical form again. I'll never touch her or hear her voice. But this is where faith is formed and hope is built. 2 Corinthians reminds me that when this body is destroyed, we have a heavenly body and to take courage (hope) for when we are absent from the body, we are present with the Lord. That, my friends, is when the grave becomes a place of hope.
And with that hope in place, I wanted this Easter to be a special one. It was. It didn't go exactly as planned but it was a beautiful weekend filled with family and friends.
As my relationship with Christ grew, I loved Easter for more than just the season of the year but for the reminder of what Christ had done in my life. From death to life. Spiritually, with the new birth but almost literally after the birth of Seth.
This year meant even more.
I contemplated the words of Michael Card's "Love Crucified Arose," And these words especially spoke to me.
"Love crucified arose
And the grave became a place of hope
For the heart that sin and sorrow broke
Is beating once again"
The grave became a place of hope? I stood by my mother's bed just a few short months ago and cradled her head in my arms while she took on new life. I'll be honest as I left her bedside and walked down the halls of that dimly lit ICU, I wasn't feeling hope-ful. Oh, in my head, I knew that her body was free of this world's pain, sorrow and fear but in my heart I felt hope-less. Alone. I dropped to a chair in the waiting room and didn't know where to go or what to do next. Lost.
I"ve been thinking about the disciples of Christ. These were men who had given up everything and placed their hopes and dreams in a Man for whom they thought would save the world. But they'd just watched him die a horrible death. Not just the death of a common man but that of a criminal.
I'll bet they knew a little about feeling alone and lost.
In a few short days though, the disciples experienced the unbelievable--the resurrection of their Lord in physical form. I'll never see Mom in physical form again. I'll never touch her or hear her voice. But this is where faith is formed and hope is built. 2 Corinthians reminds me that when this body is destroyed, we have a heavenly body and to take courage (hope) for when we are absent from the body, we are present with the Lord. That, my friends, is when the grave becomes a place of hope.
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| The Balty Family Easter 2011 |
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| Easter lunch outside with David's niece and hubby and our friend, Gina |
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