Promises of Spring

I'm not sure when Easter became my favorite holiday, but it brings sweet, endearing memories as I scan back on my years. It all started at Orange Hill Baptist Church in Austell, where those early years included getting dressed up for Sunday church. Daddy and Mama would usually take a picture of us in the front yard. There were egg hunts with dozens of cousins, special lunches with MawMaw and Daddy's family after church, music and the joy experienced at the services. I was too little to understand all the hype, but just loved it. It was the time when dogwoods were blooming everywhere, bees buzzing, pollen flying, and all of nature bursting with flowers and mint-green foliage. Life! Abundantly...  

As Ken and I started our family, we also took pictures in the front yard with our little ones before Sunday church. The lunches were with both our sets of parents. The passing of the guard, with its sadness, leads to the new guard, bright with promise. The pictures now need the panoramic view on our cameras. 

Now we are the old(er) ones, how can it be?! As I see our grandchildren in the weeks before Easter, each one of them mentions that they can't wait for candy and the egg hunt at our house. The pressure is on. 

Last Saturday, I dashed to one of the grands' soccer games, only to arrive and see that I missed it. I had the wrong time. Ken was off, bush-hogging one of our sons' properties, so I took the opportunity to hit up Aldi's. They always have cheap Easter candy and lots of goodies. I was a little panicked, as I thought Easter was in one week. While there, I texted all the family, asking what they were planning to bring. I was informed that Easter was on April 5 this year. I said, "Yes, I know that. It's next week." Folks, it's not because I'm losing my marbles (well.....) but just had it wrongly in my head that April 5 was next week. Mind you, I check my calendar every day in my phone. Ken Norton works on a strict policy that we have to put everything in the calendar and it has served me well. But in order to use it, it helps to actually notice the dates, not just the events. 

Anyway, I'm breathing easier because that means I have an extra week to go chocolate hunting. One of our sons, who might have a healthier attitude (he, of course, is the one who subsisted on gummy worms during four years of college and ruined his teeth), suggested I put quarters and dollar bills in the eggs for hunting. I'll think about it, but maybe not... 

I am beginning to run into a conundrum with my adult children. These people would never say that they are spoiled. I raised them tough -- spanking and neglecting them just enough to make them great (I am laughing, ya'll). That also included loving the stuffing out of them. But Easter baskets have continued for all these years, for everyone -- all the grown adults and their spouses as well as Ken. What is wrong with me? This year, we acquired two more of the most scrumptious grandbabies on the planet, making fourteen in total, all 13-years-old and under. They are right to expect Easter baskets from their Yaya. But 30 and 40-year-olds, oh yeah, and the 68-year-old? I am trying to figure out where all that is coming from. I might need to sell a house in the next day or to, to finance all this frivolous purchasing. 

In the end, for all of us, is that it really isn't about the eggs, the chocolate, the pretty dresses. All of that is fun and beautiful and joyful, without the pressure of Christmas gifts and so many events hanging over us. What makes this the best holiday ever is what it represents. This week, I heard one of our granddaughters singing in that sweet, lithe voice of the young, a bird-like melody speaking of the wonder of the resurrection of Christ and what that means to believers. I couldn't help but tear up. For I have been redeemed.

Easter is hope, the springing-forth of new life, and the promise of life after death. This same week, I read a terrible, scathing post about the evils of Christianity on a cousin's post. There are evil people, there are evil deeds, there is sin in the world. There are those who claim to be Christian but are not, truly. There are also all of us hypocrites who still wrestle with our own sin. This is why we need Christ. We, meaning me, need life and a new heart. Easter, where He triumphed over sin and death, to give me a new heart. Yes, I am proselytizing, because I have been given and tasted what it means to truly be free and to have a Savior who bore my sin and gave me new life. 

There is one who doesn't want us to know this. Resist, and draw nigh to God. He will not turn you out.