I’ve really been reflecting on Easter this week, and how this holiday has evolved for me over the past fifty-plus years. I’m sure my nostalgic reflections are due to all the changes in my life this past year. I find comfort in looking back and celebrating my growth, and finding joy in knowing that the resurrection of Christ continues to take on deeper meaning the older I get. If you’re in the mood, join me on my trip down this bunny trail…

My earliest memories of Easter are probably more from the black and white photographs of my childhood, more so than the actual memory itself! I love the photo of my parent’s in their “Sunday best”, my dad with his slender tie, my mom with her gorgeous legs and thin waist—despite having given birth to my brother a few months prior. And there is that new brother of mine—unrecognizable because of the gigantic swaddling blanket encompassing his whole being! I guess Easter was chilly in Great Falls, Montana. And there I am in my adorable 2½ year-old standard new Easter attire; white gloves, bonnet with the elastic string for under the chin, white tights with black patent leather shoes, and of course the new dress with plenty of ruffles and bows. I’m not sure if we went to church all the time in my early years, or just on those special holidays. But it’s obvious that’s where we were headed on this fine day.

 

My elementary years back in our little St. James Episcopal Church in Fremont, Nebraska, are vivid in my mind. This is the church I immediately picture when I think of Easter as a child. On this most special of Sunday’s my father would present my mother and I with our Easter corsage to wear to church. The service would begin with Mrs. Semrod at the organ with the choir processing in to “Christ the Lord is Risen Today”, Father Mueller reading from the Gospels, and then of course the procession up to receive communion. My favorite part of Easter service was watching and evaluating the parade of mothers and daughters in their new Easter attire and picking out my favorites as they returned from communion. (Most years my dear Aunt Marge would win for best new hat.) We would shake Father’s hand in the back at the end of the service and then be issued our little marigold plant to take home. I will forever associate corsages and marigolds with Easter Sunday!

Following college, my career began in Omaha high up in the Woodmen Tower. Back in the early 80’s it was the tallest building in downtown Omaha—all 24 floors. I honored my parents and my church upbringing by joining them for Easter service out west at this new “Interdenominational Church” my entire family was now attending. Over the course of my four years earning a partying and business degree at Kearney State College, my brother and parents had realized the Truth of the Gospel—and given their lives to the Lordship of Jesus, the one we heard about in that Episcopal Church, but quite honestly never knew what to do with. I found this new kind of church so intriguing, and Pastor built a solid case for joining them in their new lives of devotion to Christ. I just wasn’t sure I should I should hand over control of my life to Jesus quite yet—but thankfully I didn’t wait too many more years before I did at 26 years of age.

 

As young parents, my husband and I were blessed to have our children at the same time as my brother and his wife. My mom went from longing to be a grandmother, to having eight grandchildren in the course of nine years. My dad got her a prestige license plate that read “8ISENUF” because of all the spoiling she did. Now the matching Easter outfits for the grandchildren came compliments of Grandma. Terri and I literally NEVER had to purchase clothes for our children while my mom Alice was alive. My favorite memories with our children on Easter are out at Aunt Marge’s lake home. The kids couldn’t wait to finish our ham dinner and set out on the big egg hunt. My mom was always concerned about “keeping it fair” for all the kids, and would make sure to watch out for the underdog, helping them add to their haul! So many great snapshots in my mind, the kids lined up on the steps for photos, all the moms in their new Easter dresses, the dad’s in their suits. Bunnies had nothing on us in terms of multiplying (and the subsequent generation is picking up well where we left off)!

 

Being married to a music pastor meant Easter would often entail a giant service held in a public venue. King of Kings in Omaha would rent out Aksarben, (Nebraska spelled backwards for those of you wondering), Suntree Church in Melbourne would rent out the King Center (a very fittingly named venue for an Easter service), and my husband would orchestrate an amazing worship band and singers to create a joyous celebration! How proud I was of his efforts and incredible talent. As our children grew, he would pull them in to use their gifts in these large services… Drew in a skit, Spencer on the drums. Though it was an exhausting week for my husband, it was always worth it to have the Gospel go forth.

 

Sadly last Easter was by far my hardest one to date. Easter in our Florida home had become one of the holidays where we invited friends without local family, enjoying dinner together after church. Last year probably looked the same to our guests, but I knew it would be the final Easter in my home on Persimmon Street, and quite possibly the final Easter married to my husband. I struggled through the meal and the obligatory egg hunt, but then ended up retreating upstairs in tears about the condition of my marriage. If there was ever an Easter I needed to embrace the reality of the resurrection this was it. I needed Christ to resurrect the love that once filled our relationship. I wasn’t sure what I was even dealing with in my marriage, but my gut told me I would soon know the truth, even if it wasn’t the truth I wanted to hear. Just like Jesus descended to hell for three days before rising again, I felt I was in that same dark place.

Which brings me to Easter 2016—one that I will choose to celebrate, despite the losses in my life since last Easter. Yes I lost my husband to divorce, yes I now live in a rented townhome while I wait for our house to sell, yes my beloved brother and sister are spending their first Easter in heaven (I’m thinking heaven is probably like Easter everyday—don’t you?), and yes for the first time as a mom I won’t be with any of my four children this Easter. But I’m celebrating in a much, much deeper way the importance of what Jesus did on the cross, and the fact that he WAS raised from the dead on the third day. I feel my life is being resurrected into a new depth of dependency on the power of Christ, and this year I have experienced the fellowship of his suffering like never before. So much of what has transpired this year has seemed out of my control, divorce, death, and delays in my plans. But I’m learning to lean into the pain, to embrace my “new normal” as a single woman, and to pursue after God’s desires for my future.

So this Easter I’ll be wearing shorts, tennis shoes, and a volunteer t-shirt as I join with fellow Christians to provide an Easter service and dinner at the Orlando Citrus Bowl to thousands of our under-resourced residents! It seemed right and good to totally forsake my traditional Easter attire and switch my focus to the hurting that are right here in our community. I look forward to greeting them with a smile, looking them in the eyes, and blessing them with words of HOPE. Matthew 25:40 will be my theme verse for this Easter of new beginnings, “Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Thank you Jesus, for evolving my Easter into what YOU desire me to focus on. And thank you for enduring the cross for my sins, and for the assurance of a resurrected life in You.