The kids and I attended church today for Easter Sunday Service. I haven’t been to church for a very long time – in fact the last time I was in church could have been Easter of 2019. I have had a strained relationship with God and our reparation is fairly new. But, aside from the one year off for Covid, I have never missed an Easter Sunday in an actual church with my family.
Today, the pastor was relating the Easter story, as one does this time of year, and I was struck by one part in particular. Although, as a good teacher I was at the ready with pen to bulletin, I missed her direct quote, so here is my paraphrase –
Jesus was dead. He WAS dead. There was no doubt. It had happened. People had seen it, his lifeless body was placed in the tomb by people who know what dead looks like. He. Was. Dead.
But he wasn’t.
Because God is like that.
He can and DOES take situations and parts of us that we think are dead and gone and he resurrects them as something new. This right here, this is an amazing and wondrous thought, isn’t it? God can raise the dead. If he can raise the dead he most certainly can breathe new life into someone who feels broken and lost. I have spent my Easter Sunday reflecting on how He has done this for me. He raised my spirit from the dead through my divorce. He built me up as I began to build a life as a single person with three almost grown kids. And, He did this when I was not happy with Him.
He is continuing to build me up, through my dearest friends, through my job, through my kids, and through my art. All of a sudden I see that anything is possible, I may just need to rely on this relationship I have been obstinately ignoring like a pouty teenager because I did not want to have an alcoholic husband (or ex-husband for that matter) or have to endure all of the ugliness and anguish that entailed. I did not want to make decisions that needed to be made. I absolutely did not want to do it all on my own. Yeah. See the irony there????? I see it now, God. I really do.