Monday, April 25, 2011

Easter

Easter has always been a bittersweet holiday for me. So many years of my life were spent clueless as to the actual meaning behind the day. Engrained in my mind are the memories of Easters past. Even reflecting upon it now, my heart quickens as the feelings of pain, confusion, jealousy, dissapointment, and embarrasment rise. The hurt I held so deep in my heart all those years still pentrates through time like the sun on my skin; always there, even when I can't feel the burn.

Today, it burns. It burns deeply.

I can remember riding home on the bus. A three day weekend on the horizon--unspeakable joy in the life of a ten year old. My friends conversing, revealing thier exciting plans and family traditions. Cries of anticipation filled the air, the expectation was unmistakable. As the bus screached to a hault at the top of my street, I walked aisle of dread, head down, already wishing this dreadful weekend to be complete. The driver, he gave me a gentle nod and smile, stretching out a bowl of candy from which I could choose any one I like. A gesture that spoke more then that old man may ever know.

My young eyes were simply reminded of all that lacked in my life. A family who gathered on such a day...a such thing as a tradition, which seemed a foreign word around my houshold. Candy. Just a little basket. A bunny perhaps? I remember waking up on Easter morning, hoping and paying that beyond my wildest dreams maybe, just maybe, the bunny would have brought me a little something. As I grew in age, I remember walking outside on a dreary Easter morning to see all of my friends outside with baskets circling the edges of the yeard in pursuit of colored candy-filled eggs. Jealousy. Confusion. Hurt. Why not me? Why doesn't anyone care aout me? Why don't my parents love me enough to hide some plastic eggs for me? Of course he attacks the idenity, my very worth thrown into upheaval at such an innocent age.

I remember going into my backyard, hiding under the deck and just sobbing--for hours. I wanted to be like all the other kids. I wanted to jump on the bus Monday morning, sugar-coma slowly wearing off with tales of bunnies, baskets, chocolate, eggs, surprises, and time together. I wanted to be that kind of family; the ones that celebrate by spoiling the kids, cooking up a feast, and arguing over who will cut the ham and how to cook the potatoes. The good, bad and ugly...I wanted it all, I wanted a family...a  mom and dad to argue about who hid the missing egg...a little heart just craving some love.

I suppose growing up with a Jewish, preoccupied mom and an alcoholic, absentee dad doesnt make for a very happy easter for any wide-eyed expecting child, even myself.  When I got on the bus monday morning, year after year, I felt ashamed. What do I say when my friends ask me what the bunny brought me? How do I tell them my family is different then thiers; my family does not do an egg hunt or go to church or cook a feast or argue about how much chocolate the kids can eat. There are no annual traditions, no pastel dresses. In my house, Easter is just another Sunday.

These are the memories, the feelings, the images that flood my mind when I begin to see chocolate eggs and bunnies lining the aisles of the local wal-mart. No matter how hard I try to forget...to forgive...The bitterness still stings...ouch.

 But then the sweet, well the sweetness of Easter is that God sets the solitary in families. That today I belong to believing brothers and sisters by blood as well a whole community of brothers and sisters in the body of Christ.

The bitter is that the nails stung as they were hammered into his palms and feet. The sting continued as He hung to death.

But then the sweet is that He took the sting so that I don't have to live enslaved to it anymore. He concquered the sting and rose again! Death could not keep Him, the grave could not hold Him.

For me, Easter is bittersweet. Today though, I realized the sweet is starting to outweigh the build-up of bitter. The sweetness of the sweet...it is just unbearable to even consider. What an unspeakable day of reflection, thanksgiving, and anticipation. Wow. I was so broken over not getting candy or bunnies, when the God of the Universe was broken for me.

Even before I knew my precious Jesus, you loved me. Even before I was one day old, you had the whole plan. 

Though I greatly missed celebrating this day with my sisters and brothers, what a blessing it was to remember the sacrafice on the Cross with my spiritual family here in Fayetteville. So thankful for the Herrons and the Fosters for adopting me as one of thier own. What family. What love. What sacrafice. What a Savior. Oh the sweetness of it all.

3 comments:

  1. Love this!!!! :) Next Easter i'm hiding some eggs for you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And your going to be a great mom!

    Ash

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  2. you are always welcome with us on Easter too!! So glad you were able to go with Ashley's family. So sweet, and I"m so glad you are seeing with His eyes what this day is really about now!

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  3. thanks ash. I will tell all my childhood friends :)

    And shelly you are precious thank you! Missss you so much!!!

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