Extra Ordinary Easter

Still too weak and weary to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, Sean and I were unable to go to church this Easter morning.

We did none of the things that we ordinarily do on Easter.

Instead of hearing the Word read and preached amidst a congregation of many, we read the lessons and the sermon written by my father quietly to ourselves.

Instead of greeting and being greeted with, “He is Risen!” we didn’t leave the house.

Instead of colorful family portrait worthy clothes, we spent the day in pajamas.

Instead of brass and choirs, our day was mostly silent.

Instead of lamb or ham or wine or asparagus, we had carry-in barbecue.

And yet,

This evening I find myself wistfully smiling because:

Instead of two of us sleeping in the hospital and one being passed from relative to relative, we’re all in the same house.

Instead of calling Maya via Facebook video to see how her day was and smiling bravely as I described my own, I can hear her singing in the shower down the hall.

Instead of being hooked up to tubes and cords, Sean is hooked only to the (recorded) basketball game on TV.

Instead of paging doctors, staring at monitors, and watching for signs of responsiveness, I am washing dishes. 

This Easter, these mundane moments feel extra ordinary.

They feel a bit like new life.


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