Easter People

We are Easter people. I grew up hearing our pastor Jim Jackson say this phrase numerous times, in many sermons, during different seasons of the year. 

We are Easter people. 

Bob Goff (the author of Love Does) says it this way: Easter either changes everything, or nothing. It cannot change just a couple things.

We believe in the cross, in Jesus's sacrifice, in his atonement for our sins. We believe in eternal life, in freedom through Christ, in God's forgiveness, power, and mercy. 

We are Easter people. 

I have a confession to make. I have not been acting like an "Easter person" lately. Pretty much since I got back from my wonderful, awesome honeymoon in January, I have been in a bit of a funk. 

I've been grumpy. I've been sad. I've cried and cried, I've laid in bed, I've been angry, I've felt lost, and hopeless, and deeply sad. 

I'm not saying that every moment has been that way, but the overall feeling was dark. I longed for the peace that swept over my life in the days before the wedding. I didn't think I'd changed much - was still reading "Jesus Calling" many mornings, still praying. I still felt healed looking at a beautiful sunset or listening to the worship at Grace Bible. But, overall, I felt dark. I have been wallowing in the misery of life since my dad unexpectedly died in a plane accident last September. 

I have blogged a bit and journaled a lot about the showering of grace and love on our family- it is still there, sure. Oh, don't get me wrong, it was not as if in January my friends abandoned me - my husband and my friends dealing  sharing in my grief have been incredible. It's just... the new year, my new last name, Gentry & Amy's upcoming wedding, moving out of my mom's, a new job. All of it is a blessing, all of it is good, but all of it means we're going on without him. All of it means it's real - Dad is not coming back. 

We are Easter people. My dad, more than probably anyone I've ever known, would not want my heart, personality, or life plans to change because he left this Earth. My dad would still want us rejoicing and dancing and traveling and having family dinners and watching baseball and doing all the things we did with him, without him. 

Dad has taught me a lot about faith - about the importance of staying positive, seeking joy that comes from something other than objects or status or accomplishments, trusting others, loving well. My dad, who always starts the morning with "What's on your agenda today?" was a purposeful man. He would not be proud of my sluggish body struggling to get out of bed most days. 

My dad had a lot of catch phrases, and I couldn't help but think as I sat in the pew next to Drew and my Mom and the Chens Easter Sunday: "Put your money where your mouth is." I believe in Christ, I believe that God is love, I believe in Heaven, I believe that God works good through all things. 

It is high time I got it together. I haven't been able to write much since January - it was just like all the steam left me and I am empty. I often feel like a fraction of a person I was before the crash. But that's not how God or my dad or my husband or my mom or anyone else who loves me would want it. That's not how it should be, not for always. 

I know I'm still going to be sad, and I know I'll have tears unexpectedly and moments of overwhelming grief, but...my time for mourning should not be destructive. It should not be defining. 

We are Easter people, and Easter people smile through tears. We trust in the unknown. We are thankful for how much we've been given. 

Twenty-six years with a most-amazing dad is not something everyone gets, not something we're entitled to, not something to take for granted. I have far more support and love and encouragement than many who have lost their family members tragically, and suddenly. We have the power of memory, memories of Dad and how he lived his life and how he loved us. Oh, how he loved us. And oh, how He loves us. 

We are Easter people. My cup overflows.