Back in the 60’s we celebrated Easter Sunday. During the year we didn’t often get new clothes or fancy things but Easter was different. Different because for goodness sakes we were celebrating the most important thing in human history and we were going to dress up in honor. For our family we knew that Jesus Christ died but that his coming back to life made him THE Messiah, the long awaited Savior, the only one that could give eternal life to those of us who accepted his payment on that cross for our sins. He made it possible to be born into God’s family, not just born into the human race. SOOOO… we dressed up, new matching dresses, little parasol purses, black or white patent shoes and even lacy gloves, and Mama wore a hat.
We wanted to look our best, to take time to honor Him.
My Mama knew how to make new dresses and new dresses we would have, beautiful, girly, with full fluffy petticoats’ (those we wore to pretend we were ballerinas as we danced around the living room, that room you used only for special occasions)
Anyway…one year my mom was working diligently at her friends house (who we always referred to as an Aunt, but she wasn’t) on those matching Easter Sunday dresses for her 3 little girls, me being the oldest, (a brother and another sister not yet born). SO while she was sewing away inside we were playing in the front yard and I remember hopping from one concrete cinder block to another. It was fun, a little game. What’s that saying, “it’s always fun ‘til someone gets hurt”? If you had seen me at prom, in the flag corps or maybe gym class you would know that I was never all that “coordinated”. I’ve heard it’s because I never really crawled just walked at 8 months old, who knows, maybe I should start crawling around my house, but nevertheless, I was always rather klutzy.
Yes, as I happily awaited my matching spring attire, I hopped joyfully up and down the driveway, from one block onto another until I slipped. Then the corner of my eye caught that next block ahead of me and I was wounded. But not as wounded as I was the next morning all decked out in my new Easter dress, matching my younger sisters, with my lovely black eye.
When I look back at it now, I realize we usually look at how things “look” on the outside, but God looks at the heart. I have all sorts of stuff in my life that may shine like a black eye, but God knows my heart, he knows if I am honoring Him for dying for me and if I have accepted what He did – not all the good things I do.
The way I see it … for some people Easter 
is only “happy spring”, bunnies, flowers, baskets, chicks, and eggs, but for others of us, it is a time to celebrate the new life, that eternal gift, we have because of God’s only Son,
the risen,
Jesus!
You have the thoughts and yet that project (the invention in your head, writing, decorating, designing, learning to can, quilt, plan a visit with a friend, play an instrument) just hasn’t blossomed, nothing to show for your great ideas.
You are busy anyway, you would really like to, but….
Some of us actually do it.
I have reusable pots and bags of potting soil. I have numerous books, magazine clippings and great ideas.
