Light

Dogwood against the background of the first sun
rays of Easter morning hitting the tops of the trees

I had a plan before I went to bed last night. I would get up at my usual time, go outside, face east and watch the sunrise. I did just that. It is Easter morning.

I gathered my Daily Light, Bible, One Thousand Gifts journal, cup of coffee, my granddaughter's large pink Princess Blanket, and went out to the seating area in the woods and read the Easter story in Matthew..out-loud. I was joined by our cat Noah. He nudged me for attention which he got! Then he sat beside me as I read the account of Jesus from the Last Supper to His Resurrection. Right on cue, the sun rose above the horizon as I read the portion of scripture telling of the angel declaring that He was not in the tomb but He had risen. I was expecting a huge emotional surge to come over me. It was a mild lump in my throat but no tears fell. I thought myself to be unspiritual for not letting the "bigness" of the story to impact me. I stilled my thoughts and quelled the expectations. I sat. Eyes closed. I possessed the moment.

Thinking on the story. Wondering the exact emotions that Jesus was feeling when Him asked that the cup be taken from Him. The surrender in praying: not His will but His father's. Knowing the actions of His closest friends. Had he known from the beginning of the ages of this moment? What did He feel when He came back to find them sleeping? Resigned? Ready for the betrayal, of all and not only Judas? I think He had compassion and knew that His next hours would bring them more than they ever knew was possible. He loved fully. He loved unconditionally. He loved holy. He loved.

I sat in my chair, wrapped in my pink princess blanket and I was loved. Am loved by MY Resurrected Savior. I watched the rays bullet through the trees and the difference the sun made on all the foliage. Sunrise. There He was, here He is--the Light of the World.

I want this Easter to be remembered. I remember the Easter egg hunt with the grandchildren last year, but I don't remember the sermon message, the dinner, and I don't think I flooded my day with thoughts and contemplation of the significance of this blessed day. I want to remember this particular Passover/Resurrection Sunday. I want to rethink the naming of the gifts that I've noticed so far in my journal of counting blessings. I don't want to get caught in the procedure, I want to feel the privilege. I want. I desire the connection of thankfulness to my Light. I've sin in my life. My attitudes and thoughts this day have been blackened at times with resentment. I feel the weight of the bondage. I know this day bought me freedom. Why do I hang on to my shackles? What purpose do they serve? None are good. Stress. Physical illness. Loss of joy and a chance to notice a gift. Forgive me Father. Forgive this lost one who has been denying You. I don't have anyone accusing me of being associated with You, but I hear the young servant girl accusing Peter. And he denying You. That's me; am I'm not also denying You. Refusing the cost of the cross. Forgive me.

I have to say, I must say, thank you for Your gift of blood which cleanses and Your broken body which paid the price for my sin/darkness. So grateful. May I live it and pass it on. Light my way.