Victory Song

Easter has always been one of my favorite holidays. As a kiddo, it meant a visit from the Easter bunny and going to my grandparents house for our now infamous Easter egg hunt. When I say infamous, what you need to know is that this Easter egg hunt has been going on since before I was born. Everyone is required to participate. So, as kids, my brother and I would have my other grandmother do practice Easter egg hunts with us so that we would be ready to compete against my aunts and uncles. This Easter egg hunt is serious business, and we all still participate. Last year, I finally laid claim to the title of winner. It is a tradition that I look forward to every year with excitement and the proper amount of respect for the competition at hand.

Easter has been different this year. I know that this statement is true for pretty much everyone else as well. We did not get to have our egg hunt. We did not get to gather as a family. We as Christians did not get to gather in churches to celebrate a day that is about far more than just bunnies. We all had to find new ways to celebrate and new traditions to implement. I don't know about you, but I needed Easter to be different this year. I am sad to not be attempting to defend my egg hunting title and celebrating with my church family, but I needed Easter to be different this year. I needed Easter to be about more than bunnies, candy, egg hunts, and Easter dresses; I needed it to be more than gathering with my church family to remember and celebrate the risen Lord. I need Easter to be real. I need it to be as real as the air I am breathing. I need the hope of Easter as the anchor of my soul. For so many of us, our souls have been and are currently being tossed about by the waves of this world. It seems like every time I turn the news on there is more grief and more pain than the day before. Also, for the record, 2020 has been a highly traumatic year for us collectively as human beings, and that's not even mentioning the personal traumas we have lived through. My heart and soul are weary. My heart and soul need an anchor.

When dad passed away nine months ago, I was in the middle of teaching a class at church. I had been planning different pieces of the class in a notebook that I had gotten from one of my favorite companies that makes devotionals. The notebook had been created to accompany the Lent study from the year prior. The notebook went with me many days to the hospital, and it was what I had on hand as we made funeral arrangements. In the middle of the notebook is a quote from St. Augustine. "We are an Easter people and 'alleluia' is our song." This quote, in a strange way, became a lifeline for me. It reminded me that even in the shadow of death, we can still sing because we are an Easter people. It reminded me that death does not get the final say because Jesus stepped out of the grave crushing death and its power on the way out. Easter means that all of those that I/you have lost this year and years previously are not lost forever. One day, there will be a great feast, and we will all be reunited. We will cry and laugh and sing and shout and be filled with joy unending because death died that day. It may win battles now, but its fate has already been decided and sealed. Easter means that we can rise in the face of death because it does not get the final word. Easter means that we can constantly have a victory song on our lips because victory has been handed to us through Jesus. His work set us free. Easter itself is the hope that anchors our soul, but it is not just our hope, it is our victory song.