He and a host of his tiny friends and classmates had taken their place in the worship service just earlier, waving their palm branches helter skelter as we sang together, “Hosanna! Hosanna!” and prepared our hearts to receive a risen Saviour. So palpable was the presence of Christ, I’d half expected to see King Jesus come riding down the center aisle on a donkey.
“Who was dead?” I queried, knowing who he meant.
“Jesus,” he said without a trace of hesitation, followed with a mumbled something or other that sounded like “alive.” We talked about it there, parking the van in the garage, how Jesus had been dead, but God made Him alive again, rejoicing that this, the great good news of the resurrection, was being taught to even the least.
“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds…Teach them to your children, when you sit and when you walk, when you lie down and when you get up,” Deuteronomy had said.
And wasn’t it the least of these whose faith could shine like the sun? Wasn’t it the least who often modeled best how simple faith could be? And hadn’t our seven-year-old niece painstakingly handwritten her love for Jesus in a note to her grandmother, inspiring this aunt? Yes. Yes it was.
“I love (heart) the Lorerd! You shood too. if you dot (don’t) wie dot you? Well I sher do! God is reell. I am seareos! Belive me please!” her letter had said, carefully transcribed by her mother, all spelling intact.
Because of Easter; because He lives and isn’t dead; because of His brokenness, sacrifice, and pain, we are freed to live. We are freed to love. We are freed to walk in newness of life, reflecting His light, for that is what brings Him glory.
“The Lord is risen!”
“The Lord is risen indeed.”
It’s your turn. What are you thankful for today?