It’s Easter. It is here. He was He is exactly who he
promised he would be. More than that! He is who the prophets promised he would
be! He is who God promised he would be! Easter is TRUE.
Promises were kept, are kept every single day. I’m sitting in a coffee shop and in the silence between the songs that are blaring through my headphones, I’ve caught the most precious glimmer of Easter. I’ve eavesdropped on a little girl having a date with her daddy. It’s clear they were chatting about Easter and now she is asking him why Jesus had to come and die right away. The dad answers her “He didn’t, he was 33.” And then she asks if Santa was born as a baby. The next song starts and I’m seeing her playfully jump out of her seat to talk to him with such excitement. She is so sweet and so disheveled from her school day, with stringy hair and a stretched out collar on her T-shirt. Her dad looks exhausted, but enamored. The wide-eyed newness and curiosity of Easter in this little girl’s eyes—that’s the most precious part. The beautiful surprise and mystery of the resurrection was reflected in her sweet questions. With all the love inside this daddy’s eyes (which I recognize very well, since it’s the look that my husband had when he asked me to please stay out tonight during Awana so he could have Lily all to himself) with all this love he has for her…it’s frail and grey compared to the love that is lavished on us.
Promises were kept, are kept every single day. I’m sitting in a coffee shop and in the silence between the songs that are blaring through my headphones, I’ve caught the most precious glimmer of Easter. I’ve eavesdropped on a little girl having a date with her daddy. It’s clear they were chatting about Easter and now she is asking him why Jesus had to come and die right away. The dad answers her “He didn’t, he was 33.” And then she asks if Santa was born as a baby. The next song starts and I’m seeing her playfully jump out of her seat to talk to him with such excitement. She is so sweet and so disheveled from her school day, with stringy hair and a stretched out collar on her T-shirt. Her dad looks exhausted, but enamored. The wide-eyed newness and curiosity of Easter in this little girl’s eyes—that’s the most precious part. The beautiful surprise and mystery of the resurrection was reflected in her sweet questions. With all the love inside this daddy’s eyes (which I recognize very well, since it’s the look that my husband had when he asked me to please stay out tonight during Awana so he could have Lily all to himself) with all this love he has for her…it’s frail and grey compared to the love that is lavished on us.
Love that frees us, Love that gave and gave and gave and
held nothing…NOTHING back, Love that sacrificed to the deepest most painful
death, Love that let’s me sing and dream. Who am I? Who am I that his pain
would bring my joy? Who is he that his life was the key, the only key to open up
a true, real, robust, and abundant life? He is the beloved Son of God. And He
Chose Me. He chose me. Three little words and yet… yet no other words match
them in significance. He chose me to love with such ferocity that in His
radiance he became the lowliest and burst forth through death to overcome my
sin. His purity and perfection beyond anything I could ever imagine. Yes
indeed, what He has done, what He has given us is beyond all we could EVER ask
or imagine. He gave us himself. He gave us life. He gave us freedom.
I am a little late reading this but it doesn't even matter. This was such a good read!! Thank you! It seems the excitement and joy of Easter are at times lost in the hustle and bustle of the Spring "crazy" season. But not in this post. I could feel your excitement leaping off the page!
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