Easter was great. What a celebration. The church smelled like a float in the Rose Parade. All those flowers. All those Alleluias. All that joy. But what about the day after Easter? What about Monday?
Here’s what I try to remember when I bring the extra jelly beans into the office and my stomach is still groaning from all those chocolate eggs:
- The Resurrection isn’t reserved for just one day in spring. It’s forever.
- If even his best friends didn’t recognize Jesus on Easter, I’ve got my work cut out for me. I plan to keep my eyes open.
- Many of those people who crowded the church I won’t see again until Christmas. They’re still part of my heart’s congregation.
- This is my second Easter without my dad. I wear his bowtie to remember that he is around.
- My brother-in-law Mike is in a hospital burn unit right now. I remind myself of the miracle that he is alive.
- My desk will be piled with work and the emails will come flying. To everyone I say, silently or aloud, “Happy Easter!”
- The world’s greatest sorrow lasted only three days, from Good Friday to Easter. I can get through anything if I remember, “Wait three days.”
