If only life could always be like Easter break.
Yesterday was sleeping in, driving to Men’s Warehouse and Plato’s Closet, and confirmation of previously assumed thoughts. It rained all day, fitting for my first Good Friday service later in the evening. The sanctuary lights were dimmed as we took communion and meditated on Christ’s sacrifice. His death has been observed, and now tomorrow we celebrate His resurrection. I do love this weekend.
The night was spent in the lounge with brothers and Coup, a game that gets some far too competitive. God knew what He was doing when He gave women the ability to build compromises between men. Even with confident headbutts, it was a night I won’t forget. To laugh and eat instant meals with brothers and sisters in Christ is a precious occurrence.
There are those around the world who do not have the luxury this Sunday to proclaim “He is risen” out loud. It must remain quietly in some hearts, but I think perhaps they understand sacrifice far better than I do.
I pray for Kenya, I pray for China, I pray for America. We are surrounded on all sides, but He has risen! We do not need to fear the evil One any longer, for spring has come.