Today is Easter Sunday. It is the most important day on the Christian calendar because it is the day that Jesus declared victory over death by rising from it.
It is the day death died. Once and for all.
And yet I am conflicted this Resurrection Sunday because I still feel the pangs of death, as though it never fully died. I believe in my head that this is not the end; I know that. But if I am honest, I don’t feel it.
I feel heavy. I feel tired. I feel sad. I feel anxious. I feel stuck. I feel doubt because hurt still happens.
Death still takes the ones we love most and never gives them back.
Racism still destroys humanity and builds barriers that few of us actually have the courage to tear down.
Friends disappoint us; people disappoint us.
Children go unloved and uncared for.
B R O K E N N E S S.
It’s still here. We don’t have to look hard to find it.
But in the midst of the doubt, there are priceless moments of beauty that keep the resurrection flame of hope burning, even if it is dim at times.
The kindness of a stranger.
Seemingly miraculous forgiveness and healing from long time wounds.
Holding the hand of a loved one in their last days.
The tiny hands of a child grasping tightly to yours.
The hug or kiss from a loved one on your worst day when you least deserve it.
Friendship – the priceless kind that you know deep down is irreplaceable and true to the very end.
R E S U R R E C T I O N.
And if we have the boldness to be vulnerable enough to look for it amidst all of the doubt and the death and the brokenness, to trust that God is still present in all of it, our heads will reach our hearts, and we will realize that death is dead. That he is alive.
That he is risen.