Whether or not you believe that the eminently handsome guy with a beard and bare feet died for your sins, there is no denying that the time for new life is now.
We survived a pandemic. We survived no sports — at all. We survived no in-person school for 10 weeks. We survived the blizzard of March. We survived — some more than others — a horribly nasty election. Some learned how to Zoom, others (ahem) staunchly refused to “master” it, only plugging in a meeting ID and password when absolutely demanded of us.
Now it’s Easter. For many, it’s a time of rejoicing that someone loved us so much he was willing to die for us. For some, the three consecutive days being in church this week seemed like a miracle, after church was canceled during Lent last year. Who cancels church? Never happened before, hope it never happens again.
For others, it’s time for chocolate and bunnies and jelly beans and deviled eggs and getting outside without six layers of clothes.
In the last year, I didn’t learn how to bake sourdough or make my own pizza crust.
I didn’t buy a Peloton or stop eating.
God knows I didn’t quit drinking.
I didn’t cope with the loss of sports well — at all.
This year, I concentrated on my prayer life during Lent. Peggy Jane the Mom would say without giving something up, I didn’t do enough.
I didn’t give up booze or ice cream or diet Coke or any of my many vices.
I didn’t give up eating out, because last year I did and then didn’t get to go back, even after Easter. Sad lesson learned.
What I learned by concentrating on prayer is that it doesn’t work to carve out the same time each day. Stuff happens. Life happens. Work happens. Running a house happens.
But what I also learned was that anytime is the right time — in the early dawn of morning’s first light, in the late afternoon between putting dinner in the oven and when it’s ready, just before bed in the dark.
That’s not shifting it to slivers of time, it’s making it happen any time.
Life is precious. Those of us who know someone who died of heart disease or cancer or COVID in the last year know this.
I talked to a longtime friend in the morning and he was dead that night.
Two others died before I knew they were sick.
My favorite Easter decoration of all is a greeting card from my very clever sister-in-law.
In typewritten font on a white background, all it says is “BRB.” — Jesus.
In the simplest way possible, that’s the story of the resurrection. He loved us enough to die for us — all of us — and then come back to save us.