This has been a hectic week. Not a bad week, just busy. After being out of town for over a week, I had a ton to catch up on. Throw in three days of watching my neighbor’s daughter, home group at our house, a Good Friday Service and a huge Easter lunch and egg hunt hosted by yours truly (that I am quite excited about!)…yes, it was a hectic week. And about Wednesday, it dawned on me that I hadn’t really focused much of my energies on what I should be thinking about this week…the crucifixion and resurrection of my Lord Jesus Christ.
Thankfully, in God’s grace, I was able to switch gears and think of ways to help myself and MK think more about Christ and the point of Easter. Instead of reading through Proverbs in the morning (my current book of study), I decided to read through the various Gospel accounts of the events leading up to and those of the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus. How difficult and sweet it is for me to take time to think about what our Lord suffered and the love He displayed in His sacrifice. I was humbled and convicted that I don’t dwell more often on the horrors of the cross and the power of the resurrection. Certainly, I would be more grateful for my salvation and more dependent on God’s power if I only stopped more consistently to think on such things.
As far as Molly Kate, well, its hard to get far with a 20 month old. But, as I want to be in the practice of always pointing my children toward Christ, we took the past three days to read about 1) the Last Supper, 2) the Crucifixion and 3) the Resurrection. I used various childrens’ Bibles and found some on-line coloring pages that corresponded with the three events. She honestly has no clue what I’m talking about, but I pray that one day God waters and causes to grow all these little seeds that I’ve been planting and that she will be able to celebrate Easter with the joy that I do.
So, I sit here, the night before Easter, with much gratitude, joy and humility. The house is clean and ready for our guests tomorrow. The eggs have been dyed. The clothes are ironed and the coffee is ready. But, by God’s grace, my heart is somewhere else. Tears spring to my eyes as I rejoice that my Savior did indeed rise, that He lives and that He ever intercedes for me. How greatly I do not deserve to be His and yet how happy I am that I can say He is mine.
I don’t have a long list of Easter memories from my childhood. But I do remember one hymn that we sang every Easter and I cannot help but begin singing it my head right before Easter Sunday. Here is the mighty refrain that sings over and over in my mind…
Up from the grave he arose;
with a mighty triumph o’er his foes;
he arose a victor from the dark domain,
and he lives forever, with his saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!