Early on Easter morning I heard children calling to each other in a family Easter egg hunt. Then I focused on morning prayers for those on my heart. As I brought these dear ones before the Lord, I wondered how many of those struggling with cancer, chronic health problems, some without even a diagnosis, others with painful relationships, some still in the pall of the death of their loved one – how many were coming to Easter morning, which is supposed to be joyful, only in dread, or duty?
How many felt like the women trudging to the tomb before the dawn light, hearts heavy, hope gauged away? Carrying spices and the weight of the world, everything in their lives spun off into terrible disaster.
As I lifted them to the Lord, I asked for the same, lightning clarity for them that Mary experienced.
That they might hear the risen Jesus call their name.
That they might find so much more than they are seeking.
In truth, we all find more than we are seeking, though we aren’t always aware of it.
In a service during Holy Week, I thought about the Last Supper and the scene in the garden afterwards, when one of the twelve who’d walked with Jesus, seen him heal and cleanse and raise the dead, betrayed him with a kiss.
(Read the whole story here.)
Immediately, a painful scene from early in my life flashed into my mind, distracting me. I tore my focus back to the covered cross before me.
(In our tradition, the cross which hangs over the altar is covered during Lent.)
In that moment, I sensed a profound truth.
Though draped and obscured much of the time in my younger years, the cross has always been there in my life. Jesus was with me, loving me and dying for me every time I sinned,
Every time another sinned against me.
Every. single. time.
Since I was conceived, the cross has been there, redeeming me. Redeeming my life from the pit.
There were times when that redemption worked to prevent greater evil.
Other times, it worked to turn what the enemy meant for evil into good.
Every. single. time
Long before I could say the word, the Lord was there, redeeming me.
Long before I gave the mental assent and welcomed him as Lord, he was winding his love throughout my life.
Long before I studied the Bible and committed verses to memory he was writing on my heart with a nail-scared hand.
It is a great mystery, but it was the greatest truth I have ever discovered, that I have never been abandoned. Never neglected. Never hurt without being comforted. Never wounded without a healer at work. Never alone.
Not. one. time.
God is not limited by time or space. He is not linear as we are, with yesterdays, todays and tomorrows.
So he can be present in all things.
And he is.
For me, and for you.
If this Easter was less than joyful, my wish for you is that you, too will hear him call your name,
Be alerted to the presence of the Living One, who is life itself,
Find a new and fresh vision this Easter season, tunneling into the swirling reality of God-With-Us.
God’s wisdom is something mysterious that goes deep into the interior of his purposes. You don’t find it lying around on the surface. It’s not the latest message, but more like the oldest—what God determined as the way to bring out his best in us, long before we ever arrived on the scene….
No one’s ever seen or heard anything like this, Never so much as imagined anything quite like it— What God has arranged for those who love him. But you’ve seen and heard it because God by his Spirit has brought it all out into the open before you. The Spirit, not content to flit around on the surface, dives into the depths of God, and brings out what God planned all along….We didn’t learn this by reading books or going to school; we learned it from God, who taught us person-to-person through Jesus, and we’re passing it on to you in the same firsthand, personal way.