In my memories, Easter is a wash of pastel colors; fresh greens, robin eggs, lavender buds, and sunshine.
It was a time for dressing up and going to church. We knew about the cross but the concept of sacrifice was lost somewhere in the Easter baskets that were overflowing with gifts and candy.
Peanut butter eggs may be the best thing since sliced bread but the real gift of Easter is the sacrifice.
Sacrifice.
It's an unpopular concept in our world today. Prosperity is a gospel loudly proclaimed and universally accepted but someone giving out of their need rather than their excess is scarcely mentioned and rarely celebrated.
How can a world of instant, personal gratification understand a God who laid aside all His glory and power to become a man? A man who allowed Himself to be tortured and killed to save the very people who shouted, "Crucify!"?
I don't know.
But I do know that those of us who believe live a life woven with the reality of this Truth. We are the heralds of His sacrifice. Our lives: a canvas to display His glory. Our lips: an instrument to praise His name.
And silence the stones.
Shalom,
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