Thank you to Julie Hart who wrote today’s devotional. There will be no podcast this week.

1,000 Little Deaths   By: Julie Hart

On Easter Sunday, Pastor David spoke about 1,000 little deaths. It seemed like an unlikely Easter message at first, but as I listened, I realized how true that statement was. He talked about how those crucifixions in our lives can become our own little tombs that we carry around with us. It got me thinking about the little deaths that I carry around with me. What’s in my tomb?

The tomb that Jesus was placed in did not represent the best of people in the world. As Pastor David said, the tomb represented just what people were willing to do. Of course, Jesus knew that His crucifixion was coming. In my lifetime, I have been surprised at some of the things that people were willing to do to me — and I didn’t see most of my crucifixions coming.

Many years ago (like 20), my sons were little and their father and I were on staff at University United Methodist Church across town. When you work at a church, the season of Lent can be…well, a little hectic! On Easter morning, we had to leave for church very early so my mom came over to watch our kids. I had left eggs in the fridge and I asked her to dye them with the kids and leave them out front for us to hide when we got home.

When we returned that day after all of the Easter services, the basket of eggs was sitting by the door and we hid them in the yard. When our oldest son picked up the very first egg that he found, he dropped it and the shell broke causing the raw egg to run out. The same thing happened to the next egg and the one after that. In all of our Easter busyness, I had forgotten to boil the eggs! There was no salvaging them. There would be no deviled eggs with lunch, so, of course, Easter was officially ruined!

We have all known the disappointment that comes after putting all of our eggs into one basket, only to have the bottom fall out of our baskets, right? We have all believed in something or someone that ended up splattered on the ground like the broken eggs from my family Easter years ago. Broken eggs of betrayal, fear, and rejection have left us all stunned and disillusioned.

So back to the raw egg Easter from years ago … I can remember scraping the dried egg off of the driveway later that day and laughing about what they represented. They represented an over-tired, over-programmed mama who was so busy making Easter preparations at work that she didn’t have time to boil the Easter eggs at home. And that was okay! It was okay for our kids to know that preparing for Easter visitors who may be going to the church for the first time ever, or for the only time that year was important — more important than boiled Easter eggs.

This Easter, we all got to gather together to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus! But before we celebrated His light in the world, we contemplated the darkness that came before. On Good Friday, we listened to the words of the tiny deaths leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion.

Then, on Sunday morning, Pastor David helped us to see that just as Jesus could step out of the tomb of 1,000 deaths, so can we. We live a resurrected life, which means we can stop carrying around our tombs and rejoice in knowing that Jesus is with us today and all of our days.

He is risen. He is risen indeed.