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Well, hello Monday.
I’m pretty sure at the moment this publishes, I’ll be trying to drink my coffee, catch up on emails, write down a to-do list, and be rushing to get the week started.
I’m pretty sure I’ll also have forgotten the marvel of Easter.
Even though I missed my husband while he was working at his fire station, my Easter with my three kids was abundantly full. Imagine trying to rush three kids out of the door, fully dressed in Easter attire, wrangling directions for a church you’ve never attended, and all the while trying to hold onto all the Easter traditions you’ve done for so long. Not to forget, adding a visit to the fire station and then attending my own home church in the afternoon. It felt a little like what I imagine it would be like to dress an octopus into a fully ruffled Easter dress.
And yet—I saw twinkles in each of my kids’ eyes when we repeated back, “He is risen, indeed!” My heart swells at the exclamation. The part that follows that exclamation point is what follows Easter—the liturgical season of Eastertide.
I’m not going to pretend to show I know everything about the liturgical calendar. But Eastertide is of particular fascination to me. Eastertide is the fifty-day season that precedes Pentecost. You can read more about it here.
All that to say—if you know me personally, I’m 110% always down for a good celebration.
Just ask my kids. They’ll tell you about my get-psyched playlists before their games (basketball, soccer, football, etc.) as well as their recital (I totally get down to Bach). Need another source? Ask some of my closest friends about my celebrations for laundry or my little dances for how they got through the day.
What can I say? I’m your everyday, ordinary hype woman. But do celebrating these little moments matter, or am I just making a fool out of myself? And how do I even dare to celebrate even if we’re watching the world fall apart?
I think Eastertide proves that celebration, a lot like fasting, is a spiritual discipline worthy of pursuing. The resurrection of our Savior is a past, present, and future look into the kingdom of God. And isn’t it a story worth telling? Or, even better, worth celebrating? It’s an active act of rebellion to have even the smallest amount of joy.
Anyway, scratch what I said earlier.
I’m pretty sure I’ll also have forgotten celebrate the marvel of Easter. Because I can’t forget, and I can’t contain it inside of me. I think we could definitely add a little hype to our week after Easter—don’t you?
A Prayer for Eastertide Monday May we be full of encouragement, w h o o p s, hollers, and c h e e r s May we bring honor because we are celebrating what the Lord Has done Is doing and will do. May we praise Making the pot of coffee, Smiling at a funny text from a friend, Watching our children running up a court, Playing beautiful music, Enjoying a sunset, or merely existing. May we c h e e r on a friend whose margins are small, our spouses do something incredible, a fellow sister in Christ facing seemingly insurmountable trials, The lonely stranger who has not yet met a friend, Or even ourselves as we find ourselves in deepest of sorrows. Because this is a time of feasting Of rejoicing Of cheering Of remembering Jesus has the v i c t o r y— And he gave it to u s.
Some Eastertide joys—
Here are my go-to, put-my-arms-in-the-air, sing-shouting songs of praise. If you have any to share, let me know—I’ll add them :)
In case you need ideas on celebrating Eastertide, check in with the people closest to you to see what their language is via this helpful meme.
Speaking of more hype-girl cheering—I’m also celebrating my friend Sarah Hauser for releasing this book earlier this month. I cried the entire way through with both tears of relief and being absolutely seen.
Find it here.
May Eastertide find you celebrating and shouting, “Death, where is your sting”.
Courageously go and have joy.