Facing Easter, in sweatpants.

I just could not shake the discomfort I felt last night on my way to bed, and, again this morning when I woke...we were not attending an Easter service today...there was just too much against it...without going into a ton of detail,  hubby's shoulder surgery and the fact that I am still recovering from a long illness myself just made the whole thing too much...so,  we decided against it...thing is, it had never occurred to me that we would do anything else...Of course we would be there!   I have a pretty little Easter dress for my girly...and a dress shirt and vest for my sweet boy...bought em just for the occasion! But,  last night when we actually discussed the plans for the next morning...and faced the reality that trying to take two toddlers to a completely unfamiliar place(we were planning to make this the first sunday in a church we had decided to visit...don't ask why, I don't know why we mentally picked *this* Sunday...we just did) where we would not be comfortable just leaving them in the offered childcare(had *not* really thought that one through either...as we have been planning to spend at least part of the first Sunday in the nursery with the kids while they get familiar and comfortable...and this service wasn't being held in the regular church building, but at the local convention center.) and, where I was going to be either pushing them around in a stroller for two hours...hoping they were content, or trying to corral both of them on my own(think herding cats!)...bottom line, it was simply not going to work...and just like that, we were not going to service on Easter morning. 

I've been thinking about why that bothered me so much...my first thoughts were simple "It's tradition"..."it's what  we always do"..."I miss the boys, we always took the boys"(referring, of course, to my older sons, none of whom live in the same town we do anymore. Holidays look different now.) "it's where we belong on Easter morning"...ok... really? Why???(Bear with me here...it's not that we *don't* belong with the body of Christ on Easter...but, I would argue that it is not any more true today than on any other day of the week!)  Is it because we feel more comfortable if we show up and "do the right thing" and participate in a big once a year, formal "Thank you" to the Most High?  Am I worried about what people will think? Or, am I worried about missing my annual photo op with the kids dressed in their Easter best? In the end, I'm not proud to admit it...but, I finally realized that I am a lot more comfortable facing Easter...facing what Jesus did for me on that cross, when I am dressed up in my Sunday best, showing off my beautiful babies and singing beautiful music with everyone else...caught up in the tradition and emotion of it all. Doing what we are *supposed* to do. What we *always* do.   Sitting here in sweats, feeling wretched and *so* aware of how broken I am, and crabby to boot... the whole thing only highlighted, to a painful degree, my continued need for redemption...like standing in harsh, direct sunlight... it accentuated the depth of the shadows in and around me... it is so clear to me right now just how desperately I need the gift He gave us...there is no chance of me missing that point because I am not sitting with hundreds of other people focusing together on the same reality.

We moved throughout our morning...struggled with fussing children, who suddenly seemed more interested in hitting and biting than usual...cleaned up the daily mess, pummeled by the usual *mild* level of chaos...and, the truth is, I have never been more aware of my need...or experienced more gratitude for the reality of the Cross in my life. I have never had a more profound moment to stand back, look at my life and just take that in.  No service. no music. No shining faces, full of wonder. No pretty outfits and photo ops. None of that could have made me any more powerfully aware of my reality...any more grateful for the evidence of redemption in my life, or helped me to reflect on all of that with any more impact than Jesus did today, standing in the middle of my messy kitchen on Easter morning...in my sweatpants.