Happy Easter!

Many years ago before I could profess much of a personal faith or relationship with Christ, I attended an Easter Sunday service as a “holiday” Christian at a very traditional church in Virginia. I’m certain the pastor gave a lovely sermon, and I’m equally certain we sang very traditional Easter hymns; it was that kind of church, and I was that kind of woman at the time.   I’d celebrated decades of Easters the same way, and had there not been something slightly different, I’d not be telling you about this particular one, no? So, the difference? This very orthodox church had erected a very unorthodox wire and wood cross next to their altar.

That wire cross stretched unassumingly toward the ceiling, sturdy, sure of its place and position. It did not push for instant recognition, knew its time would come. It simply sat at the ready, knowing – trusting – that the purpose for which it had been intended would be required, and the cross itself had been positioned perfectly for its unique design to be utilized optimally. For my part, I was fascinated as I stared at the wire and wood structure wondering. I didn’t have to wonder long.

One after another, members of the congregation came forward with fresh cut flowers of all varieties and colors and wove the stems through the cross’ wires until the entire cross was full – no hint of wire or wood to be seen. Instead all that was visible were the pink and purple tulips, yellow and peach roses, white daisies, red carnations, pink peonies, white and pink lilies, purple orchids, blue hydrangeas, white and yellow daffodils – so many flowers in so many colors all proclaiming belief in renewed life and hope in forgiveness and faith in life yet to come. It was impossible to turn away, to turn my face from the open adoration displayed before me. The cross transformed as though from the blood and tears of our Savior flowers grew, and if you consider our hearts as flowers maybe that’s not so far off the mark.

Today, as I walked into church and saw the Easter lilies on the altar and the Easter corsages on the ladies wrists and dresses (Love that tradition!) I thought about that cross comprised of flowers, and my heart filled with joy. I may not remember the sermon from that morning so many years ago, but I do remember that cross, and that cross said every word my heart and soul needed to hear.

Happy Easter!