This morning, we acknowledge the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is a day of celebration after the darkness of Good Friday and Holy Saturday. We will make some noise with our church family this morning as we proclaim Hallelujah! He is risen!
This morning, I am also thinking about Makiya’s friend in Caronport and her two younger brothers. Their dad died suddenly on Friday night. I’m pondering the paradox between the jubilation of Easter morning and the first tentative steps these children are taking into the fresh grief of a parent lost. How do we reconcile these things? What words can we offer in both consolation and prayer?
I lost my taste for happy clappy Christianity that seemed to have pat answers for every circumstance years ago. I came to know there are seasons of lament and seasons of celebration, and sometimes (perhaps often) they overlap. There are no magic words or special prayers that will make everything all right for these young ones who have lost their dad and others in the community who have lost a friend and family member. I will go to church this morning and celebrate that Christ has risen, at the same time praying for my granddaughter’s friend and her family.
My faith is messy. I don’t have all the answers. Easter morning reminds me that my hope is in Christ alone. No one ever said I needed to, or indeed would, have all the answers. In fact, it’s in wrestling that I find my faith.
Should you think of it today and in the coming days, will you join me in praying for these three young ones in Caronport, Saskatchewan?