Every Easter I am bombarded with what this holiday really is. Everyone has their own definition. It's Christian. It's pagan. It's all about the resurrection of Jesus. It's about a fertility goddess. Some people want to change the name call it something else. Others turn to more Orthodox traditions. I tend to find myself engaged in all sorts of debates over this topic. But this year I've turned to something different...
What is this holiday to me? What does this time of year symbolize? And I see my ugliness. I see the pitch blackness of my heart. I am reminded of all that has been hidden. All that once stained my life. All that has been forgotten.
I think about the unfathomable sacrifice that was given. Held me in his thoughts knowing that He was may only hope. Crucified as a common criminal. Laid in a borrowed tomb. He took my punishment. He took my shame. He took my place.
When it seems all hope is lost I think back to this day. Darkness had fallen on the earth and it felt as if hope had been bled out of the world. What hope did they have? This man they had followed and believed in was now dead. Yet hope was to come. I love when my girls remind me of the hope that comes with the resurrection.
"Mom! If He was still dead we would have no hope."
No hope! I can't imagine having to face the ugliness of my soul everyday. Being faced with all that I have done knowing that there is only one way to redeem myself...death.
So my heart finds hope in his beauty that was exchanged for my ugliness on that cross. My heart finds hope in the empty tomb. Because His death means my life. His empty tomb gives me hope that I serve a God that lives. So this is the time of year I remember my hope!