I got to spend my Easter weekend with a dear friend, Katie. It was a beautiful, full yet relaxing weekend. Nice to get out of flat Bowling Green. Did you guys know Cincinatti has HILLS? Hills, you guys.
Katie and I got to play outside lots, going to the parks with the puppies and to play on the swingsets. We had a picnick, and watched the sunset at her secret sunset spot. We went to a cute little vintage shop. We got Graeter's....twice. We also had a campfire with her brother and made hotdogs. (I ate three. and about a million marshmellows.) I ate dinner with her family and had my toes painted by a five year old. All around it was pretty great.
But, now that I am home and writing I'm finding it difficult to figure out what my first Easter meant for me. I guess when I really think about it, the whole ressurection thing sort of got lost. For some reason the fact that he died on the cross for us, completley consumes my mind and I forget the He rose from the grave. Just has He said he would.
Lately, I'm having a difficult time deciphering weather or not I've been really dead to Christ since I've come back from India or if I'm just content. If my severe winter blues and borderline psychotic emotions have leveled out as the sun comes out. It's sort of confusing that I haven't cried in three weeks. (With the exception of the time I watched Steel Magnolias. Sally Fields after the funeral....holy shit.) I sort of feel as if I need a really good cry but, it just wont come out. Or I've been too busy. Or I'm deadened. Or If I'm really just content with my God these days.
Who knows. But I'm going to chose content with this one and run with it. This weekend I couldn't stop thinking....how great is it that I get to spend my first easter with my beautiful, sweet sister in Christ?
This. This crazy realm of beautiful joy, brutal pain, beautiful pain, and brutal joy. This life. This living God that you can see in my eyes would not even be existant without the ressurection. I know my thoughts seem a bit scatterbrained right now but, I'm having a really hard time wrapping my head around this. I try to imagine our beautiful amazing God coming to life. I can't because it starts to get really zombie like and sort of ridiculous. Instead, I'm trying to focus on the early morning of August 10th. When I became alive. When Jesus came to life inside of my heart. And people saw it in my eyes. and I felt it in my soul.
I think of my brothers and sisters. How Christ not only lives in me but, my whole family, too. The whole thing. The whole body. Just living in us. Breathing air into our lungs. Quenching our thirst. Feeding our hunger. Loving us.
Jesus came back to life so I could come to life and I think that's such an exciting part of things. I'm so content in the Lord right now. Sure, I'm not used to the lack of winter blues. The extreame crying fits. The screaming. The anger. The plate breaking. But, the Lord is just chillin' with me in the sunshine and that makes my heart jump.
"He has risen, just as He said"
p.s.....even with all that said, I sort of, just a little bit, wish I got an easter basket this morning.
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