Easter Thoughts

Today, I've just been thinking about how I wish I could adjust a few things over here.

Like the fact that my legs have been eaten by bugs. (I'm not exaggerating.)

Or the fact that I'm sometimes teased for the way I say things, or my cultural mishaps.

Or the fact that I wish I had a dryer for my laundry.

Or the fact that I never seem to sleep a full night no matter how hard I try, because my brain never shuts down.

Or the fact that I wish hugs were more frequent.

Or the fact that I live so far away from town.

But then, I think about all these wee things, about the little adjustments and complaints I carry around in my head all day long, and I realize something important that I let myself miss all too easily.

This weekend is about something bigger. It's about the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

Starting at Isaiah 52:13, we hear about what Christ went through, in quite graphic language. This was the road set out for him. This was the life his Father had in store, years upon years upon years before that first Christmas. He was sent to be nothing significant in appearance, in skills, in anything. No, his job wasn't to glorify himself. It was solely to glorify God the Father.

I may have more bug bites than one can possibly fathom (still not exaggerating), but I'm never made to wear a crown of thorns.

I may be teased for my accent, or for my mishaps, or for my uneasily-controlled emotions from time to time, but I'm never forced to stand naked with a sign above my head in mockery.

I may be uncomfortable in my clothes and wish my skinnies would fit me again like they used to, but I'm never made to be ashamed of my appearance, not even in the slightest.

I may not get enough sleep, but I have a bed. And a roof over my head. And warm blankets. I have a home.

I may not get enough physical affection, but I'm not treated as one who touches the lepers, either. (Though I don't ever want to be afraid to touch lepers.)

I may live out in the middle of nowhere and often feel stranded and isolated and alone, but I never have had to walk for miles, carrying my own means of death on my shoulder.

This weekend is Easter weekend. And the Lord is good. And though I'm not, he still loves me anyway. So I'm going to do my best to push aside my complaints and instead set his thoughts higher, his will higher, and his dreams higher. Because Jesus knows what's best anyway.