Maddie, sitting on my lap during Good Friday Ekklesia service. Corrie says “all those who are Christians can participate in communion.” Maddie whips her head around, beams at me, and says with delight (loud enough so that Jayne sitting behind me could hear it and share the beauty of the moment), “I’M A CHRISTIAN!” I’m not sure how much she understands, but she believes, and yes, we let her take communion. I wish we all could proclaim it with such joy.
Julie, going through the stations of the cross with me, reaching down to the white paper in front of us and, with black paint on her gloved hand, writes “love”. Yes, this girl is all about love, and I think she understands that part of the Easter story. Something about seeing her write it made this mother heart swell with pride. I had to brush a tear away from my eye.
Don, singing “this is not the same, it’s another thing all together – this is love” about as well as Steve Bell does. So glad I got to hear it twice – both times it sent shivers up and down my spine. The God of beauty gave Don a voice and taught him how to use it.
Corrie, tearing off my blackened glove and saying “your sins are forgiven”. I didn’t anticipate the feeling of refreshment on my hand after the rubber glove was removed. I didn’t expect to be moved by how clean and able to breathe my hand felt. It was like the water in the centre of the labyrinth, after being covered in dust.
Nikki, giving one of her prized Tamagatchis to her sister. You have to know Nikki to know how much of a big deal it is for this girl to give away something she treasures – especially to Julie. But this weekend – maybe it was the spirit of the season, or maybe she just figured out it was more fun to play together than alone – she gave it away entirely on her own accord. There’s a little bit of Easter in that moment of graciousness.
Children – mine and others – running around hunting for colourful Easter eggs. Perhaps an egg hunt has nothing to do with the “real” Easter, but there is something about watching children run delighted through grass hunting for treasure that speaks of beauty, renewal, and hope. THAT has everything to do with Easter.
Sunshine. There was so much of it this weekend. Hours and hours of sunshine. And warmth. I can’t imagine a better way to celebrate the resurrection.
So many good moments this Easter weekend. I wish I could put them in a jar like little fireflies so they’d light up the night. But I suppose, just like fireflies, they’re better left floating out there in the universe to be enjoyed by all.
Easter is redemption and hope and resurrection and re-birth. Easter is love. I don’t always understand why Jesus had to die, but sometimes I’m content to live with my questions and just let the little moments of clarity be enough.