I'm Dreaming of a White Easter

I am cuddled up in front of a fire looking out my window at a snow covered hill as I write this entry. It doesn't feel much like Easter, but I sure am enjoying these last few days of wintry weather. This was the scene outside my door this morning...


Before church, my small group went to brunch at a friend's house in Monument. This is the view from the back porch...



**Note to self - Don't take the Corolla to Monument on a snowy morning. It could be a tough ride. By the way, I would like to give a shout out here to every guy who pushed my car up a hill today. High fives all around.


To be honest, I haven't always celebrated the Easter season with the passion that it deserves. It seems to be the holiday that slips past me before I really take the time to appreciate its meaning and purpose. Somehow, this year was different though. Last weekend, I had the opportunity to go to my church's production of The Thorn (www.thethorn.net). The Thorn is a wonderful portrayal of the fall of man and the redemption of our sins through the death and resurrection of Christ. I have seen the show in years past, but something resonated with me this year as if I was seeing if for the very first time.

One of the scenes depicts the story told in John 8 where the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery before Christ. As the character portraying Jesus reached out to rescue the woman from the grip of those who were ready to stone her, something broke inside of me. I recognize that my sin sent Jesus to the cross just like the sin of an adulterer or a murderer or anyone else. And while that is a profound truth, it isn't what affected me so deeply.

What I saw in that woman was a picture of discouragement and guilt and hopelessness. And what I saw in Christ was an image of the One who came to rescue us and to bring hope and life and confidence. I so desperately needed to be reminded of that.

I have loved living in Colorado Springs, and I have absolutely no doubt that the Lord brought me here for this season of my life. But to be honest, I have fought against a spirit of discouragement since my arrival. It has come from every conceivable place, and I am ashamed to say that it has gotten the best of me over the past few months. I have been discouraged, and what better way for the enemy to cripple us than to discourage us?

Last night, I was thinking of how the followers of Christ must have felt in the days before the resurrection. Several words came to mind...hopeless, confused, anxious, desperate, afraid, angry, unsure...and discouraged. Then I realized, all of these things can only exist when our focus is on the grave...when we don't live in the power of the resurrection.

I am so thankful that Sunday came, and that with it came hope and fulfillment. I am thankful that the Spirit that raised Christ from the dead is the same Spirit that lives inside of me. I serve an Overcomer, and I am grateful that I don't have to live in discouragement or defeat. Because of Sunday, I can live in the victory of knowing that "greater is He that is in me than He that is in the world." Because of Sunday, I am encouraged.