Easter

Why do we get up before dark and make our way to the Ranch early on Easter Morning? When I woke up this Easter I was grumpy and not really wanting to get up. But it was one of our nicer Sunrise services: great weather (ok, so it was 22 degrees but it was sunny and no wind!) a perfect spot that Brenda's family calls the Rock Chuck place; a well planned service with a band to accompany us as we sang. Practically everyone who came (we always have extras) had a reading to do. The Volzes had a fire going and little orange flags to direct our path over the hill. The Gayle Sacrys had done the planning and it was well done. All that wouldn't have meant much except that it seemed that every reading was just what I needed to renew my faith and put my negative spirit back into the right place. A person I was angry with came up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Another help with my attitude.
Easter is my favorite holiday. No, I don't like the eggs, bunnies, pretty dresses, easter egg hunt (ok, I do like the egg hunt) but I hate anything that distracts me from what Easter really is. God came to earth and was like us, died for us and gave us hope for eternity. I'd like to write about the Easter of 2004. The worst and the best Easter I've ever had.
A week before Easter Grandma Cora fell when trying to grab a door handle. She broke her hip (I think) and had to have surgery. Something happened during the surgery and she was never the same. We spent the rest of that week taking turns being with her in the hospital. But I don't think she really knew we were there. She thrashed and moaned and struggled all week. During one of my turns with her I thought how people had sung hymns or read scriptures to their loved ones when they were near death and it calmed them. That didn't work for her. We held her hands and tried so hard to comfort her but nothing seemed to work. The best way I can describe her was "distressed." I can't remember how long I was with her but it was one of the worst times in my life.
I never felt so helpless in that way. Finally Gayle had her taken to his home and tried to keep her comfortable. One of the few times she was quiet was when Glada Ann washed her hair. If my memory serves me right she passed away in the middle of the night before Easter morning. That Easter morning I laid in my bed and cried. But mostly I was angry. It seemed so wrong that someone who was one of the kindest, most thoughtful people I'd ever met, who tried never to hurt anyone's feelings, should have to suffer like she seemed to be doing. I was angry at God. "Why didn't you step in? She never did anything wrong!" Quietly but firmly the words from the Bible came to my mind, "He did nothing wrong." In that moment I understood that Jesus could have done it a different way. He didn't have to suffer. God was in charge after all. God's Son could have chosen to avoid the pain. God could have thought of another way to save us. But if God had, would we feel he understood when things seemed unfair. "It is not as though we have a High Priest (Jesus) who doesn't understand our suffering."(Hebrews I think.) But He chose to be one with us, to understand our pain. To live the human condition. Atonement - at one ment some call it.
I still felt sad for my loss and for Grandmas struggle. But I knew God was Love and it was all I needed.