Soon we will lean toward a sanctuary of thoughts offered by those who seem to know a secret. The lily lit churches worldwide await our new shoes and bonnets. The Easter secret seems to be all about One Who died with all manner of gruesome details - bloodshed, nails, dangling flesh and heartache.
Yet the story gets glorious when we read the end of the story which, in fact, is the strong doorway to the sanctuary of Truth and Triumphant Energy. This Divine contradictory of Truth v. the pitiful, remains the reason for Life, a renewed life, an abundant life-quest abounding with grace, peace and miracles.
For me, Easter is the Ultimate Extremism. Within a matter of hours our Christ suffered the deepest humility possible and in the next three days, He created the highest moment in history when He rose from that black cold cave back into the warmth of His Holy Father's 's Arms. The Ultimate Greeting, "Welcome Home My Brave Son," changed the world forever. What a page turner in the history of book of Life.
Today we are left with the Unseen Presence Who just happens to sit with me now. Yes, it's a kind of miracle, but the same One who spun gold across the sky at night and once held the earth in His Mighty Hands by day is my truest friend and guide. God sent His Son to show us His Image in body form as well as in heart.
Happy I am in this afternoon hour in March just as the sun slides across my desk for the first time in days. Outside my wide window, the dogwood branches lift and sway and the robins return . It's a a new day, a new fresh family of good ideas and hope-dreamed goals. Perhaps I shall illustrate my book, What Does God Look Like? and ship it off to the publisher - with a lick and a prayer.
There is no aftermath of Easter for Easter remains and lives and breathes in those who dare to dance with the Easter side of Truth. After an Easter Service in church, we may kick off our new shoes and remove our bonnets but not our peace, for we have been visited by the Prince of Peace and if we acknowledge Him, Easter will be our reason for being, now and forever.
Winter must die for the sake of the dogwood and the daffodil. Spring must surrender to Summer and Summer must melt into the glories of the crimson leaf. I, too, must die to the the tendency to tamper with the Sanctuary of Holy Thought.
I hear Easter's call, Do you?
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