Atypical Easter

This has been the weirdest Easter of my entire life.

First of all, it's freezing outside. While it's always cool on Easter, it's rarely cold enough for the possibility of white, frozen precipitation to occur. And it was cold enough this morning, and all weekend for that matter. Walking into church this morning, my friend Katie comments, "they said on the radio that it's colder on Easter morning than it was on Christmas morning!"

Speaking of church, I wore trousers today and black. Not my typical Easter attire. I have a green dress in my closet. It's sleeveless, short, flowy and it's got flowers on it. And a cute green ribbon to wear tied around the waist. I have a pair of beige, slingback, open-toed heels that I would wear with this dress. Needless to say, they stayed in the closet this morning, close to the dress still on the hanger. I wore black flats instead.

Speaking of flats, I worked the nursery after the 7 a.m. service this morning. Well, in theory anyway. I walked down to the childrens wing, signed-in, walked to room 1100, sat down in a rocking chair in a dimly lit room surrounded by seven cribs (yes, I counted), talked to the other nursery worker, and waited for the babies to arrive. They never did. The other two rooms of infants were full. But not ours. We waited half an hour into the second service, and then I left for home. I was pretty disappointed. The whole reason I stayed in town was for the babies.

My parents and family are in Jackson, TN. Ben is in Murfreesboro with Britt's family. I am at home, in fat pants and a t-shirt, and I just woke up from a two-hour nap. For Easter dinner, I will have leftovers, and tonight, I will watch a re-run of America's Next Top Model and the Amazing Race.

I'm not really sad about this. OK, maybe a little. I think I'm more sad about how much my Easter traditions (or lack thereof) put me in the mood to celebrate Christ's resurrection. I sure am glad Christ isn't as fickle as I. Praise Him that He died and rose again, regardless of whether or not I got to wear my Easter dress or color hard-boiled eggs. Praise Him for dying for my transgressed self, and making himself alive again so that I can have life, abundantly. Talking about it puts me in the mood, and strangely, I'm sort of a little happy now.

He is risen. He is risen indeed.