Easter. Resurrection Sunday. My favorite day of the year.
Yet this year was different: the first Easter without my grandma. Oh what I would give to answer the phone to her sweet voice gently and joyfully half-singing, "Hello, darling granddaughter. Happy Resurrection Day! Today we celebrate the Resurrection of our Lord and Savior! What a wonderful day this is!"Tears spring to my eyes when I stop and acknowledge that I will never hear her say those words again. I'll never see her in the kitchen mashing potatoes… or hold her hand as we pray together before our meal… or receive another Scripture-saturated hand-written card declaring God's goodness… And so, streams of sadness continue to cascade down my face, threatening to drown my thoughts in an immobilizing state of sorrow.
Then, I remember: Nan is with our risen Savior.
That's it- the tears are now pouring through my eyes, racing towards my chin, until… they're stopped by the upward curve of an involuntary smile. Joy- inexplainable joy- bursts inside the walls of my grieving heart. My dear grandma, Nan, is celebrating Jesus' resurrection with him… because of his resurrection. Wow. Dead to this life, yet more alive than anyone on earth. Cue the tears.
