Good morning, Jesus,

Today is your day: Easter morning.
He is risen indeed.
I wonder what is happening in heaven today,
if Easter is a holiday,
or if every day is Easter.

I ask your forgiveness today,
for how little I understand about resurrection.
I cannot wrap my mind around it.
Too often, your resurrection feels like a story that happened then and a promise for what will happen later.
The already, the not yet.
A theological band-aid for my aching, wounded spirit.

I ask your forgiveness for my understanding of where you are; in my mind, you are where my husband is.
I fear you have become the second person I cannot wait to see when I get there.
I ask your forgiveness.
I don’t know how to think differently.

I’ve never met you.  It’s hard to imagine.
And I knew him so well.  I can nearly taste that reunion.

But because you are alive, I know Robb is alive, too.
My God is not dead, he’s alive – he’s alive.
And my husband dines with you today.

I ask your forgiveness.
I believe.  Help my unbelief.

And thank you for being bigger than anything I can wrap my mind around.  How bored we would be if we had you figured out.

Today is your day.  May you receive the glory.

I love you.


* * *

Christ is risen from the dead,
trampling over death by death,
Come awake, Come awake,
Come and rise up from the grave.

O, death, where is your sting?
O, hell, where is your victory?
O, church, come stand in the light:
Our God is not dead, he’s alive, he’s alive!

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