Here I am this Easter, huddling with tea and toast and a massive head cold. Didn't make it to church this morning and won't be making it over to a friend's for Sunday dinner. I'm a little sad about all that. Today is a holiday, and I will be coughing and hacking at home.
But the birds are still chirping outside my window, and the day is starting with bright morning light instead of the snow of yesterday. Even though I am not celebrating the empty tomb with fellow parishioners or partaking of some ham with my friends, I know that Jesus is here. I know that He is risen, indeed.
Despite all the junk that has been stirred up within me the last couple months, I believe that there do come those waves of hope. Maybe they don't last very long, but my hope is like a surfer, paddling out to the next wave so that I might be carried through the hardships with as much hope as I can catch (Kara will like that metaphor ;-)
I am a cynical person when it comes to the stuff we cannot see. I believe that if I have low expectations, I will not be disappointed, but the problem is that I'm disappointed anyway. Hoping is hard work sometimes. Some people have that hope easily, then you snarl "stupid Pollyanna" behind their back. For me, I know that I can have it if I want it. Here in my pj's on Easter morning, thwarted by this stupid cold, I can have that hope.
To me, Easter has always been more about resolutions than New Year's Eve. So here today, I resolve to paddle like mad for the next wave, and not let the swells defeat my faith. It will be hard work, and my arms will burn, but that hope might see me through to the shore.
2 comments:
I was just thinking that I liked where you were going with that when I read your comment about how I would like where you were going with that :) Your post makes me think of that verse in Romans 8... "For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have?" I'm thinking it's about paddling out to faith and let it carry you right to hope. Happy resurrection my dear friend.
I have a lot of friends with deep faith. As someone looking in from the outside, I have always been moved by the unseen struggle within each. I think so many non-religious people assume it's all blind. But it's so much richer that than. It's eyes wide open and questioning and exploring and falling and getting back up again. It's beautiful and very real.
Thanks for coming to check out my blog, Sarah. Happy to be seeing yours.
Sabrina
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