Growing up in a family where God and Jesus weren’t ever really talked about, kind of meant that we celebrated Easter a bit differently. We did have a small Baptist church on the street corner where we could go for an hour after school every day until 5th grade, but lets be honest, who really remembers what they heard back then?
I knew a song about God holding the whole world in his hands, that I was an angel and stood on top of a piano for the Christmas play, and that we played hide and go seek in the church…thats about all I remember about God and Jesus from my childhood.
Easter, for me, was an elaborate Easter egg hunt where our eggs were filled with coins and dollar bills, where we search for Easter baskets filled with toys, goodies and chocolate bunnies, and a Gold Egg that held at least 20 dollars. At 7 years old, 20 dollars is like winning the lottery. Do you know how much candy you can get at the Candy Corner with that?!
That’s what Easter was for me.
That is what Easter meant.
Yeah, my Grandma prayed before we ate. Or one of us kids did…something along the lines of “God is good, God is great. Thank you for this food, Amen.”
But if I knew, if I had any sort of inclination or understanding that Easter was about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ… that the Son of God, born of flesh who lived blamelessly and walked humbly and then died brutally on a cross so that I could run around and look for a chocolate bunny…
Easter would never have been the same.
And truth is, this is only my second Easter knowing what happened that day. This is only the second time that on this day….I get to stand in Awe and amazement that my Savior lives. That death is no match for my God!
And it isn’t easy. I know that while I am at church worshipping God, my parents are at home running around making sure the house is clean enough, the food is cooked just right and the table it set perfectly. My family, while small microscopic baby steps have been taken, does not celebrate Easter the way I would like to. So yes, when I come back from Church in the morning, I will go around and hide Easter eggs and the Golden egg.
But honestly…
It just isn’t what its all about, Ya know? That idea, that way of celebrating Easter, it just doesn’t cut it for me anymore.
Do you know what does cut?
Nails. Through hands. Through feet. For me. And my sins.
Yet he rose from the dead 3 days later.
Because my God is stronger than Death!
So tomorrow, while I am walking around watching my nieces and nephews search for their Easter eggs, I’ll be remembering Jesus. And how thankful I am to God for giving His only son so that I, me, little nobody Lacey….could know Him, love Him and spend eternity with Him!
Thank you God. And Thank you Jesus.
He is alive
