Easter is a time of resurrection. A few weeks ago, I had to go through a kind of death: I had to let myself be helped (something I try to avoid at all costs). A few years ago, I had to submit myself to another death, and commit myself to a church, in spite of much hurt I'd suffered from churches in the past. This week, both deaths were redeemed in a resurrection.

I am still unsure of exactly what this resurrection means, only that a part of me that was dead is now alive, and alive in a different way than it was before.

That in me which used to deny needing help, did indeed die, and was mortified. It is not alive, though still weak, as a desire to allow others to help me. After all, I like helping my friends and am honored to be asked to do so: can I dare to assume that my friends feel any differently? Do I have the audacity to assume that they don't love me enough to want to help? God forbid!

That in me which did not want to be tied to a church for fear of being hurt again, was forced to die, to be committed to a church. This week, it was raised up, and made new. My heart has lain fallow for a year; the field has been barren and choked with weeds. But now the green blade riseth, and the wheat springeth green.

I feel as though someone has torn a veil away from the sky, and I can look out upon Deep Heaven again(though it is more likely that scales have fallen from my own eyes!). I feel as though the sun is shining in my heart, which had been dark and cold for far too long. I have been shown the love of God; I see it (and Him) in those around me. I know that nothing, demons nor angels, powers nor principalities, bad churches or good, friends or enemies, can keep me from the love of God. He loves me for His own purposes, and nothing I do will cause that love to cease.

He is Risen
He is Risen indeed


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