Happy Easter?
In this season of Eastertide — a word I love and remember from my growing-up years — we prolong celebrating the good news of resurrection. When I was pastoring a local church congregation, I would plan worship and choose Easter hymns for several weeks following Easter Sunday. The joy was lingering and contagious. We were hopeful — anticipating new life.
During this year of global pandemic, many other things are contagious: COVID-19, for sure, but perhaps even more insidious are the contagions of despair, uncertainty, resolve, lethargy, antipathy.
I’ve been reflecting on how to find hope these days. Social media offers us comprehensive lists of activities to build a daily schedule around — lists so long and daunting they often do the opposite for me, creating paralysis in the face of so much to do.
I Am Grateful
In reflecting, I’ve wondered: Does hope grow from gratitude?
I am grateful — for my home, clean water, hot water, a washer and dryer, central heat. But even with that abundance, hope is sometimes in short supply. These conveniences, important as they are, can easily be taken for granted.
Over the past days, I have been conscious of the small details of life that instill gratitude and open my heart to hope.
Hope Grows
Here in Michigan, we’ve had an old-fashioned spring — softly warming temperatures and even some sunny days. However, as is typical, we’ve also had a few days when the temperatures dropped to winter ranges and snow fell. Last week, snow did fall, and my blooming daffodils doubled over to the ground. Yesterday, I cut a full bouquet of yellow joy — the stems recovered and strong again.
Those wintry days called me indoors, and I searched my games cupboard for a really good puzzle. Every time I do a puzzle, I worry that I’ll find a piece or two missing. This time was no exception; and look, every piece fell into place. The tiny pieces of seemingly unrelated bits of color make up the completed picture — a little like life. There is hope in waiting to see how things will be completed.
Food for the Spirit
My summer hobby brings an abundance of home-canned goodness: pickles, tomatillo salsa, chili sauce, peaches and cherry-pie filling. In the dark corner of my basement, I find hope in these colorful jars, now providing me tastes of the summer yet to be.
And, as I remain resolved to “stay home, stay healthy,” a white plastic bag brings me hope for a meal that I didn’t have to cook. I am grateful — for the restaurants that are staying open and for the uncountable people who are gladly bringing these bags of joy to doorsteps all over our country.
A Full Heart
Even in these times, when I am unable to see my family in person, technology offers me glimpses of a growing grandson and his moms. But closer to my home, a relationship with another young couple has given me a handmade mask, a sign saying “I love you” for my front door — and a household to bake cookies for.
When days do stretch long, I am buoyed by music. I’m reacquainting myself with favorites from other seasons of my life. Carrie Newcomer has written an anthem so appropriate for these times — her “You Can Do This Hard Thing” (give it a listen!) calls to us to recognize that days may be hard but that with one another, we, too, can do the hard parts of living in pandemic.
Easter, Again
Long ago, the disciples struggled to understand the meaning of the empty tomb — the early morning news of a body gone was incomprehensible. The good news grew slowly until Jesus stood among his friends again. Matthew’s gospel ends with the Great Commission — to make disciples — and with the assurance that plants hope in Christian hearts. Jesus said, “I will be with you always, to the end of the age.”
May hope grow in gratitude as we live in God’s presence, all of our days!
