"The Muffled Cries For Help From a Daddy of Four Beautiful Little Girls"

Monday, April 13, 2009

I'm Not Claiming to Bear The Stigmata

Easter means a lot of things.

As a ministry family, we find ourselves working a lot during this holiday. There are actually staff members at our church who worked 10 times as hard and produced 10 times as many programs I did, but still it's busy for all of us.

At one point, I needed to transport a cross from one part of the church so it could be used for teaching in the chidlren's area. This cross was taller than me and made of some fairly rough wood. Rough enough to give me a splinter. Not just a tiny splinter that you'd need tweezer to dig out. Imagine a fork jabbed in your skin and then bent so that a whole tine broke off and stayed embedded in the flesh. The "nice" thing about big splinters is that they are easier to yank out.

Then there was the overwhelminig spread of meat and potatoes and rolls and desserts that forced themselves into my belly.

And the nap I tried so hard to avoid, mainly because I was in the middle of a crowded living room, and falling asleep on a couch in public is kind of rude. I fought the good fight and lost.

So you see, Easter weekend was very hard for me.

Yet, I'm not actually in a complaining mood about it. I'm just pretending to be.

In reality,
I was energized by the services at our church.
I was excited to see hundreds of children at the egg hunt.
I was blessed to be able to teach the truth of Jesus' resurrection to families.
I was encouraged to see so many volunteers serving in every corner of the church all weekend.
I was thankful to be fed, and to be fed so well, by people who didn't have to feed me.
Even that crazy splinter has left me with a tiny reminder that Jesus' suffering was great...and it was for me.

Easter Sunday is over, but Jesus is still risen.

Many things will continue to remind me of that truth:
As I put away the props and decorations from the weekend.
As I write thank you letters to people who made the celebration significant.
As I mow over more plastic camouflage eggs all spring long.

And as I watch my splinter wound grow puffy and infected and oozing with puss and spreading through my whole body. The good news about that, at least, is that if I die from it, I know I have the hope of eternal life because of what we've just celebrated!

1 comment:

Tammy said...

Christ has risen INDEED! Amen and praise the Lord!

We had a great day at church and found out we will finally be calling a new pastor in two weeks. :-)

(wow, and I didn't have anything snarky to say here)