What a difference a year (and unimaginable world circumstances) can make, in the celebration of an Easter holiday, yes?
Last year, we were just weeks into our move to SA, reeling from a house that was so far from put together, criminal contractors who’d stolen from us and abandoned projects, still light years away from feeling like it could ever feel like home—and recuperating from several brutal rounds of back-to-back strep throat within the household, while trying to unpack boxes and just get through our days.
But we abandoned all that baggage and traveled to Tulsa for Easter weekend, to enjoy our family (immediate and extended). And it was a picturesque sort of Easter weekend.
Fast forward one year and our circumstances are vastly different (Halleluiah). Our little family unit is settled here in SA with roots deepening with every day we complete and every memory we make; the only home improvement projects we’re taking on are of the normal variety, and not the demolition variety, and yet, we’re in the midst of this global pandemic that has turned all life’s focus topsy-turvy. And inward.
To the home.
The family unit.
The nesting.
The health-keeping.
The community supporting.
And the getting through of each day, with the best mental wellness we possibly can. And if we’re lucky, making some beautiful, unique—and precious, because they are so—memories along the way.
This Easter could not have been more different from the last, and yet, at its core, it was very much the same. Humans grappling with whatever life circumstances have come their way, trying to rejoice in the beauty of it, and the grace of our Savior.
This is a beautiful poem my neighbor shared, and it’s exactly the sentiment I’d like to remember from this holiday:
How the Virus Stole Easter
By: Kristi Bothur
With a nod to Dr. Seuss
Twas late in ‘19 when the virus began
Bringing chaos and fear to all people, each land.
People were sick, hospitals full,
Doctors overwhelmed, no one in school.
As winter gave way to the promise of spring,
The virus raged on, touching peasant and king.
People hid in their homes from the enemy unseen.
They YouTubed and Zoomed, social-distanced, and cleaned.
April approached and churches were closed.
“There won’t be an Easter,” the world supposed.
“There won’t be church services, and egg hunts are out.
No reason for new dresses when we can’t go about.”
Holy Week started, as bleak as the rest.
The world was focused on masks and on tests.
“Easter can’t happen this year,” it proclaimed.
“Online and at home, it just won’t be the same.”
Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the days came and went.
The virus pressed on; it just would not relent.
The world woke Sunday and nothing had changed.
The virus still menaced, the people, estranged.
“Pooh pooh to the saints,” the world was grumbling.
“They’re finding out now that no Easter is coming.
“They’re just waking up! We know just what they’ll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two,
And then all the saints will all cry boo-hoo.
“That noise,” said the world, “will be something to hear.”
So it paused and the world put a hand to its ear.
And it did hear a sound coming through all the skies.
It started down low, then it started to rise.
But the sound wasn’t depressed.
Why, this sound was triumphant!
It couldn’t be so!
But it grew with abundance!
The world stared around, popping its eyes.
Then it shook! What it saw was a shocking surprise!
Every saint in every nation, the tall and the small,
Was celebrating Jesus in spite of it all!
It hadn’t stopped Easter from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the world with its life quite stuck in quarantine
Stood puzzling and puzzling.
“Just how can it be?”
“It came without bonnets, it came without bunnies,
It came without egg hunts, cantatas, or money.”
Then the world thought of something it hadn’t before.
“Maybe Easter,” it thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe Easter, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
And what happened then?
Well....the story’s not done.
What will YOU do?
Will you share with that one
Or two or more people needing hope in this night?
Will you share the source of your life in this fight?
The churches are empty - but so is the tomb,
And Jesus is victor over death, doom, and gloom.
So this year at Easter, let this be our prayer,
As the virus still rages all around, everywhere.
May the world see hope when it looks at God’s people.
May the world see the church is not a building or steeple.
May the world find Faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection,
May the world find Joy in a time of dejection.
May 2020 be known as the year of survival,
But not only that -
Let it start a revival.
I really, really loved that beautiful reminder of all that Easter represents at its core, and all that’s extraneous.
Sure, I might have missed the trumpets blaring in the early morning church service, surrounded by family and friends, but I was grateful to be able to stream a service from our pajamas in our living room...
And I might have missed the fancy clothes and pomp and circumstance of the day, but I was grateful for beautiful weather that allowed for a family bike ride and rosy-cheeked kiddos searching for eggs afterward...
And there was beauty to the unhurried pace of the day, as well. We spent Saturday night family-sleepover style, and woke on Easter morning to cuddly, cutie-pie faces. And without hair to fix, and church clothes to don, we utilized our downtime for the little gifts the kiddos were lucky enough to receive. And for video conferencing with family. :)
So...wherever you were, whoever you were with, and whatever you were able to do, I hope you found a little peace and joy to your Easter this year.
And I hope you’re staying healthy and sane.
Over and out.
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