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  • Writer's pictureDeb Killian

Easter Sunday

Lamentations 3:22-23

"The faithful love of the Lord never ends. His mercies never cease. Great is His faithfulness. His mercies begin afresh each morning". (NLT)

1 Corinthians 1:20

"So where is the wise philosopher who understands? Where is the expert scholar who comprehends? And where is the skilled debater of this time who could win a debate with God? Hasn't God demonstrated that the wisdom of this world's system is utter foolishness?"

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. I love Resurrection Day. The beauty of what the Lord has done for us reduces me to tears and brings me to my knees. I am humbled. I rejoice. I am contemplative. I am giddy. I am seriously in love with my Father, my Lord and the One Who loves me most.

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday.  When I was young we always got new Easter clothes. Even if we couldn't afford clothes all year we dressed up fancy on Easter. Dad & Mom made sure we honored what the Lord did on our behalf. Patent leather shoes shined from under, dare I say, crinoline skirted dresses and little white purses hung from our wrists. My brother sported black pants, little precious coats and bow ties. We were too cute.

This year I have the perfect pastel beads that a Kenyan lady friend strung for me, but I have nothing to go with them. It's still chilly and I'm not prepared for spring attire. I'm comfortable to stay cozy, delve deep under the quilted covers and remain firmly planted in my fuzzy, flannel PJ bottoms.

I think it's the same feeling I get when God reveals a new prophetic pronouncement over my life. The excitement is there, it wells up inside me but it seems too far away from the moment I'm living to grasp. I'm not sure how to wear it, balancing the climate of now. It's hard to embrace what I don't comprehend. I would feel safer to stay where I'm at.

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. Sometimes the season changes before the weather catches up, however it is time to put away the heavy coats, boots and leggings that bind us. It's time to say goodbye to dead leaves strewn throughout the yard so we can pamper the little grass growths underneath. It's time to look past the dreariness of the wind and rain to rejoice in the new life it brings to the rose bushes, apple trees and daffodils. It's an opportunity to reach out for what we can trust will be there. Spring comes every year; God's Word never returns void. There is a brilliance in the sun today belying the chill of the air and I'm ready for winter to be over.

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. I think I'll take the Word I heard from the One who rose out of His grave for me and run. Arms outstretched. At the ready. Not looking back. Racing straight ahead, without fear but with anticipation that many more will come to the knowledge of His Saving Grace because of it. Spring has finally sprung in my heart once again and with it the birth of promise.

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