Celebrating the beauty of God's grace

The beautiful celebration of Easter began early for me. I would like to say I’d looked forward to our special Sunday all week, but that is not completely true.

Don’t get me wrong. I love the glorious remembrance of Jesus’ life on earth, His sacrifice, and overwhelming victory. I also love the startling reminder of new life as dogwoods burst into legendary white blooms, azaleas blush in myriad shades of pink, and vines of wisteria mist the air with heavenly fragrance.

All of these things I warmly welcome with open arms. Image

But as I mentioned before, the day started early­­­­–very early. I’d grumbled all week because I dreaded getting up at dawn to attend early services at our church. As a choir member, I’d been asked to sing at both the eight and ten o’clock services, with Sunday school squeezed in between.

I’d wanted my celebration to be smooth and easy. Not hurried and stressed, requiring extra effort on my part.

I awoke on Easter morning right at six. Amazingly, I had time for coffee and a quick breakfast. As I started to dress, I discovered one thing was missing. I couldn’t find my new pantyhose. Had I left the hosiery in the car after I’d returned from the store? I rushed down the stairs from my bedroom and pushed through the squeaky door of our screened-in porch.

The door snapped behind me as I bounded onto the sidewalk. As I moved along the smooth stones, a holy reverence captured me. I slowed, then stopped as I looked around. 

A brilliant sun peeked just above the horizon through the trees next to our home. The light illuminated the early morning mist that shrouded the new growth of tall wildflowers and saplings. Birdsong pierced the quiet morning. I inhaled the scent of dewy emerald grass and flowering trees.

I thought, This is like the first Resurrection morning. 

In the midst of my hurried schedule, God slowed me down. I saw Him in the beauty of the breathtaking day.

I appreciated anew why the country churches of an earlier generation enjoyed sunrise services. I didn’t want to leave that sacred moment, but as I turned to the house I stopped stressing about trivial things.

I never found my pantyhose and decided I didn’t need them. My daughter and her millennial generation believe they are old school, anyway. They don’t need control-top anything. I decided to give up control and my worry, too.

I silenced my grumbling Imageand decided to just enjoy.

Later that morning, our church services unfolded as smoothly and sweetly as ice cream melting on peach cobbler.

The day belonged to God. He had this, and all the other challenges coming into my life. How often does he have to remind me?

 Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)

 

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Comments on: "Pantyhose or Peach Cobbler?" (4)

  1. I love everything about this!

  2. How beautiful – a beautiful scene coming from a beautiful spirit and a beautiful Spirit !
    Thank you Jeris..! THANK YOU !

  3. Cheryl Lane said:

    Such a wonderful article. Such a blessing and an affirmation of what the Lord is doing in my life.

  4. Beautiful. So glad you had that moment even if you didn’t find your pantyhose. 🙂

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