Last nights, as I layed in bed, it hit me that tomorrow was a holiday. If you haven't noticed, I hate holidays. Since my dad died they have seemed to go all wrong. So when my mom woke me up with a change of plans and then my brother came in flipping the light on and off to tell me to get out of bed, you can imagine that I was not happy. There was some scheduling conflicts that lead us to miss church, which disappointed me. But I chose just to keep my mouth shut and try and drag through the first Easter without my dad.
After our annual jellybean traill to our basket and a surprise visit from the easter bunny (some kind soul(s) hid eggs in our yard - thank you for that whoever you are), we got ready, while unintentionally consuming a potentially deadly amount of sugar, then got in the car and headed for my grandma's.
This car ride was every eventful, at least in my mind and attitude and made me realize new things. As we were nearing my grandma's house, with David Crowder as our church worship playing in the background, my mom began to share about an article that she had read the other day. This article was about a missionary family that, at the time, was in Africa. While they were there they lost one of their daughters, she had just dropped in the yard and died. (It didn't say what happened to her or how she died), but her mother, a doctor, tried to resuscitate her.. After some time, the family knew she was gone, but being in the middle of Africa with nothing around for miles, they had to wait for 3 hours for authorities to arrive. And what do you think they did in those 3 hours? They worshiped God. The dad said that is was the only thing that he could do with his daughter now - worship God together. At this point I had chills. My mom went on, not realizing that this really hit me. Around that point I kinda just zoned out a bit, I still heard what she said next, but not taking it all in.
Let me tell you, when we were waiting in the parking lot when they were searching for my dads body, we were not worshiping. But we should have been. It was hard, not really knowing what was going to happen, if there was going to be some miracle and he could have made it or never finding him at all. I can tell you I prayed, It was more of a crying out then anything. Also being in shock didn't help, but now I know that God is good through everything. I'm not making any promises, but if I ever lose someone again (actually, this is one of my biggest fears), I want to throw my hands in the air and worship my God. This mindset changed my attitude for the day.
As we rounded the corner to my grandma's house, an old cross, made of blue and white flowers, on the side of the road caught my eye (well, it looks more like a backwards "L" shape now). It's been there for years. I remember the first day it showed up, you could still see the tire marks of where the car had crashed. Everytime we passed it there was something new set next to the cross; flowers, stuffed animals. We wondered what happened; who had died. About a month after, a photo collage was set next to the cross, revealing that a teenage boy, no older than 17 lost his life. For years, all this stuff stayed and faded until last year, when someone took everything but the cross. The faded cross. To me he seems forgotten. Is this a reparation of what my grief will be like in 5 years? I hated that thought, I didn't want to forget, or let it fade- it made me feel guilty and that lovely weight on my my heart pressed a little harder to remind me that its there. But then it hit me - that the cross is still there. It might looked faded, but it still gives that one person who drives by every now-and-again the painful sting. It might fade, but it will never go away.
Now the rest of my day - believe it or not - went well! With food, family and a whole bunch more of sugar, we had a pretty great time!
Back to a serious paragraph, actually the most serious paragraph of this whole blog. Today is the day we celebrate Jesus resurrection. Okay, let me reword that - today we celebrate the fact that Jesus beat death. If you read above, almost every paragraph speaks of death. Let's talk about this. Death is part of life. Death is scary. Death is the "wages of sin". In the end we all die. Death is crippling. Death is irreversible. Death is when life ends. Death is the ultimate price. But get this, - the ultimate price has been paid. Jesus paid everything, he took the scariest thing on this planet and not only went through it in the the worst way possible, but He beat it. We don't have to be afraid! Jesus died for our sins - just stop and let that soak in for a second. Jesus literally had your sins on his shoulders while he hung on a cross. Man..... how can I put what I'm feeling into words?! BUT, not only did He do that, but He did the impossible and rose again, so that we could live, forever, in heaven, with him! Why?!? Because He loves us. The fact that I am loved so dearly, so unending, deeply and unconditionally makes me throw my hands up and worship God in my grief.
Thank you Jesus, from every part of my being. Let my life be your tool, all the glory to your beautiful name. Thank you for beating death.
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