So I’m sitting in my new-to-me camper, trying to figure out what to write about this week, when the coffee shop I wanted to tell you about is closed today. Little things clatter in my mind: the leak in my camper I found last night during a rainstorm, the fact that my heater doesn’t work, and mixed emotions about my camping trip coming to a close so I can be home for Easter weekend.
Easter is a strange holiday to me because I was raised a Seventh-day Adventist and was taught that, even though Christ did, in fact, rise from the grave on Sunday, Sunday was still not the day of the week to worship. So Saturday was the day for the Easter service, and quite often the talk was about why we should place more significance on the holiday while saving the egg hunt for Sunday. But Sunday was my family’s yard project/work day, and no, the Easter Bunny did not exist in my childhood home. It was strange, in fact. This awkward holiday had to be recognized for its significance to our faith, yet every Easter, someone had to mention the importance of Jesus resting on the Sabbath. But there was also an echo of: Why, oh why, couldn’t he have risen on Monday? See what I mean? Confusing.
Then I married a Baptist, and suddenly Easter had so much more meaning, including a packed church service where everyone dressed in spring pastels and wore polished shoes. Following the service, there was a champagne brunch or ham dinner, family photos, Easter baskets, an egg hunt, and general glee for the young and old alike. I even got used to the standard prompt: when someone greeted me with “He is risen,” followed by an expectant pause, I learned to respond with “He is risen indeed!” This Easter greeting is as common on Easter Sunday as “Merry Christmas” or “Happy New Year” is during the holidays for those Sunday worshipers. It took a year or two to understand the rules and join in the revelry.
This year, I likely won’t be attending the obligatory Easter Sunday church service, but I will pull out my yellow tablecloth, china, and goblets for a nicer-than-normal meal to spread over my dining room table, the first formal meal of the year in my home. Some of my kids will be home, others will be busy living their own adult lives, spending the day as they choose.
And when I look for it, I always find simple lessons for any given season in my life’s journey, like spring’s fresh arrival, I am reminded of the simple truth that nothing remains the same. Seasons change. Some seasons seem to last forever, while others do tend to fly by in the blink of an eye. But one thing is certain: nothing lasts forever.
So wherever today finds you, my friend, savor the good and make it last as long as you can. Don’t hold on tightly to the darkness because it will soon pass. And as nature is rebirthing herself, I am also reminding myself that today and tomorrow don’t have to be perfect, so long as I am flowing with the process. Sure, the camper leak needs to be fixed, as does my heater. The coffee shop will be open on a future visit, and I will be able to write about it then. My kids are all adulting, coming and going in and out of my life now, and my purpose still remains true–to look for beauty all around me and keep my focus there because that is still my greatest joy to date. What an easy task that is to do in spring.