Every Easter is beautiful and I am always tired but also filled with the peace of Christ by the time Easter Sunday evening arrives. One year I tried to put into words what I felt. I would like to share those thoughts with you.
It is Easter Sunday night, and I find myself utterly exhausted as I sit in my recliner with a magazine and a notepad on my lap. Our youngest daughter left several hours ago to return to college. The house is quiet. Ann is downstairs on the computer completing an assignment she has due tomorrow. In spite of my weariness, I feel spiritually energized from the many beautiful, prayerful experiences of Holy Week. My mind lingers over the haunting words of the good thief that we sang on Good Friday: “Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.” I recall the light, hope and joy in the faces of the newly baptized at the Easter Vigil.
My favorite image is of a group of children gathered on Easter morning in a large room in our ministry center. Dressed
in their best clothes, several clutched small empty baskets while they waited to begin the Easter egg hunt out in the yard. While the parents exchanged pleasantries, the children moved toward boxes of toys in the corner of the room. Within a few minutes their imaginations stirred and they began to build a wall from cardboard bricks. Our almost grown daughter moved in and around the groups of children to capture Easter images with our camera. I kept thinking how blessed we have been on this Easter day.
I sink deeper into my recliner and pick up some mail I had set aside for a time such as this. Among the periodicals is the spring issue of Lifelines, a publication from the international adoption agency through which we were blessed with our youngest daughter. Each issue has a section devoted to photographs of happy faced children from around the world who have found new homes in towns and cities throughout the Midwest. Each issue also has a section called “Children of Promise,” which features photographs and descriptions of children from Eastern Europe, Asia and Latin America. Many have handicaps and a number are siblings. Some are simply labeled “older and healthy.” My eyes move slowly across the page, taking in each facial expression, date of birth and brief description. I try to imagine what each child might be thinking and what it would mean to have one of these children come into my life. Would he or she love me?
I cannot help but wonder if God does this with us, His adopted children. Does He imagine our potential and wonder if we will love Him after he has blessed us with unconditional love? After God’s gift of Easter, how could we not love Him?
Deacon Jim and Ann Cavera live in Bowling Green. They write both separately and together and are the authors of “Grounded in God,” available through Liguori publishing or Amazon.com.