Easter Season

I believe each of us has a season we go through before Easter. Believers, non-believers, adults, children, every one of us feels and views this season in our own way. What does it truly mean to you? Is there a right or a wrong way to celebrate? Can you combine the bunny and the Cross?

As I grow into my senior years, part of me is finding the child in me easier to embrace now. I have been through some trauma in my life and grown through it. It has left me some whole parts, some broken parts, and I have discarded some parts. I am not ashamed of my little person anymore.

Nothing I could have managed as a child would have prevented the trauma, nor caused the trauma. Many years of therapy brought me to terms with the person I became in spite of the trauma, not because of it.

I knew from little on I was not overly influenced by money, cars, fancy anything, really. I wanted joy. It was very elusive in my youth. I had some happy days, for sure.

When I spent time with my dad, as a little girl, I felt safe, protected, and loved. Also, when I would have talks with my mom and she would listen to me chatter about my school day, or a friend’s betrayal, or my trip down the street to visit the Collie that lived with Florence and Charlie…that felt like love to me. Going to the Woolworth’s for a sundae after a shopping trip, and going with mom when she would go to work, precious time with her, I was always so proud to be with my mom and dad.

I always believed my mom was the most beautiful lady ever, and my dad, well, of course he was always the handsomest. Our Sunday drives after church taught me so much more than most of my days in school.

In school, I was taunted, teased, bullied by a nun, made fun of and eventually I was molested by a gym teacher. There wasn’t many grown ups I trusted in that school, and even less classmates that I truly felt cared or liked me as a kid.

I am able to talk about it now, without feeling ashamed. For a very long time, I blamed myself for the trauma. After all, grown ups didn’t do bad things to kids, so it had to be my fault. That was the script that replayed over and over, until it didn’t.

As I am typing this now, the little girl in me is still getting a queasy tummy. After all these years, I can’t get passed it completely. I am taking a short break. A short break translated into a couple of days. I am back at the computer pouring myself into the moment, why? Because, I AM back at the computer! For me, some days, it really is that simple.

My story isn’t about getting attention or sad looks, or even justice, at this point. It’s merely a validation of my existence and the fact is I am not dirty in the eyes of my Savior. He loves me in my brokenness, my sadness, my fear, and my frustration. He loves all of me, even when I can’t love myself.

Today is Thursday of Holy week. I am reminded that Jesus washed the feet of his disciples, even the traitor who betrayed Him. He broke bread with him at dinner, and loved him through it all. That is mind boggling to me. I have trouble some days when someone doesn’t greet me on an elevator or return a grateful nod, if I put the grocery cart in the rack for them.

That is petty, I know, and I am human, folks, some days are easier than others.

What I really cannot wrap my head around is this; Jesus knew what was coming. His fate was always with Him. And yet, He loved.

He was obedient, faithful, merciful and loving, knowing what what was ahead. He could have said, no thank you, and walked away at any time. But, He didn’t. God, the Father, who gave His Only Son to death, so we might be forgiven…I can’t stand it when my girls are in pain or their heart hurts, I truly can’t imagine the pain He felt, and His Mother, Mary, watching as Her Son, beaten and bloody, was forced upon a cross, after He had to carry it to the place He would be nailed to it to die a slow and painful death.

I thought I would lose my mind when I lost my daughter to a medical error, but to watch as Mary watched, Her Son be dragged and beaten, spit on, and left to hang upon a cross. I cannot fathom the pain.

And let’s not forget that Jesus forgave the sinner next to Him, because the sinner believed…

Just a few days later, Jesus overcame death, when He rose from the tomb…

This is where it might get to a lot of people, because it is a lot to believe, right? How does One rise from death to life, to sit at the right hand of His Heavenly Father in Heaven?!?…

And so, we celebrate Easter, in different ways, with one thought in mind…

Are we all so very different?…

Are we able to love the Lord and and like the bunny?…

I believe that our hearts are big enough to do both, just go easy on the chocolate and the Peeps!…

Have a Beautiful Easter and Celebrate the Risen Lord!…

Share the chocolate, and the message of the Risen Christ!

Amen!