Easter

When I was a little girl, the holidays Easter and Christmas were equal in my eyes. Each had special treasures, like golden nuggets, that were gently stored in the memory box of my mind. It appeared to me that my family tried very hard to get along, somewhat closer to one another as if stuck together by the glue of traditions. My mom would smile more as she did her nurturing chores and I could hear my dad hum while his face was buried in the evening newspaper. For a short time, my older sisters would include me in their usually secretive fun and games, and did not let their friends shoo me away like some annoying house fly. Why, they even included me in the ‘wash- the- dishes’ dance to the music that leaked out of the radio in the kitchen. I can still recall that old, yellow stained radio that played that newfangled music “rock and roll”. Our parakeet, Twinkles, could sing “The New WCOL” just like the hothouse singers of the same radio station. I liked doing the dishes around the holidays of Easter and Christmas.

We were very busy during both holidays. We would shop for the right dresses to wear. I always wanted pretty dresses with flowers and a large stash that tied in a big smiling bow in the back. It had to be soft and satiny, like the frayed edge of my baby blanket, so I could caress a small spot between my fingers and thumb the whole time I was wearing it. I am sure my mom must have thought, “What is this small black spot on the hem of Crystal’s new dress?” My shoes had to be those shiny, patent leather with tiny bows and a shine that reflected an upside down smile when I looked into them. My socks had to have crispy lace around the top because they just could not look like my brownish-grey playground socks. Some years I would even have an Easter Parade hat and gloves. I felt so pretty as we proudly walked the solemn halls of our infrequently visited church.

It was busy in our house as well. Cleaning and decorating jockeyed for top priority in our hearts and minds. Throw rugs were beaten and hung outside and revived in the wind across the web like clotheslines. Dust bunnies trapped in the tentacles of the dust mop. The bathtub tile polished to a squeaky sparkle for the benefit of the ‘Shower Curtain Sleuths’ (you know, those people that use your bathroom and look behind the shower curtain).

As you walked into each room, the scent of my mother’s perfume would be lingering in the air like scents of honeysuckles and lilacs in the spring. Cakes and cookies baked and put into hand made wax-paper envelopes and stored in dented metal tins. We were busy preparing special, twice a year food and setting tables with the finest of all we had, all found tucked away in flowered boxes under the beds. The antique card tables, with hodgepodge chairs were set up so that children could be seen and not heard. As Dad prayed a holiday prayer of thanks around the table, I felt secure.

As the years passed and I began a life of my own as a wife and mother, I felt I had to keep the traditions the same for fear of disappointing the spirits of holidays past. I learned, however, that these old traditions were my mothers, not mine. The old holidays traditions felt deserted like old ghost towns. After I became a believer of the Lord Jesus Christ, these two holidays were no longer equal in my eyes. Christmas became my most cherished holiday. New feelings and traditions began to spring up in my heart and mind like the long awaited Crocuses of early spring. As a young believer, I thought Christmas was the heart and soul of Christianity. Easter was a close second…until God grabbed my heart about Easter.


Christ’ temptation in the desert, tormented suffering, final triumphant yell “It is finished”, death on that dry, splintered cross and miraculous rising from the grave is the real essence of Christianity. Without Christ’ death, resurrection and ascension, with a promise that He will someday come back for His own, we would have no hope, no future, no assurance of anything beyond what we have here.

Easter has become my most beloved holiday...and over the years, the Lord has shown me, through studies of His word, the real power behind Easter. What is this power... it lies in one word...obedience. Christ’ obedience to do His Father’s will. Without Christ’ willing and faithful obedience there would be no hope...no hope at all. Without His obedience, there would have been no birth, no ministry, no suffering, no death, no empty grave or resurrection or ascension. Without His obedience, there would be no New Covenant, or New Testament scriptures or redemption of sinful gentiles, for which I am one. Horrible thought, is it not!

I thank God for giving His son for us. I thank Jesus for being obedient to the point of death on the cross for my sins. My prayer for myself, during this Easter holiday and beyond, is that I will strive to be obedient to my Father’s will, and I will forever look to Christ as my best example of loving obedience.

Have a Blessed Easter everyone.