I'm remembering past Easter moments....egg hunting with the cousins...thinking the "Easter Bunny" at the mall was always really creepy...counting hats at church Sunday morning...my grandmother M painting a different wooden egg for each of the grandkids with our favorite cartoon charactor or animal on it...taking pictures in our Easter finest...and then there was that one year when the meaning of Easter became real to me for the first time.
I was on a junior high retreat at our youth minister's parents' house out in the country somewhere. We'd gone to hang out for the weekend, attempted to sleep outside under the stars and got rained on in the middle of the night. (All those great youth group moments.) Then Sunday morning our youth minister Brad had hidden plastic eggs all over the house and yard area for us to find. So we hunted down all the eggs, brought them back inside and realized they were numbered on the outside. Brad proceeded with a devo using the eggs to illustrate the life of Jesus. One by one, each egg was opened in order, revealing something that symbolized a part of the life of Jesus--some straw for a manger, a plastic lamb, a nail. But then there was the last egg. And it was empty. Of course it stood for the empty tomb, and I can't remember all that was said in the lesson, but for some reason that empty egg made am impact on me. Years later, after being at Camp of the Hills and witnessing the reenactment of the crucifixion and resurrection, the story of the risen Christ is more real than ever before. For it's not in the crucifixion that we put our hope in everyday, though it's quite important, but rather in that morning 3 days later. It's a shame that we focus so much on the death of Jesus rather than his defiance of death. Perhaps that's why we so often lose our joy unless we're reminded of it with eggs, hats, and bunnies. So even though this weekend will be full of those things, remember the power of our Risen Lord on Monday morning....in a month....in October....everyday....
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