Saturday, March 26, 2016

Preparing for Abundance

     It started out as an obligation to the calendar, marking tomorrow as Easter Sunday. A year hasn't gone by that I haven't prepared our home for Easter, but this year my heart wasn't into making a celebration. To overcome this, I made it a purpose to dedicate Saturday for Easter preparations. Dutifully, I hauled the tub of Easter baskets up from the basement and with a sigh I climbed up onto the step stool and carried down the cartons of decorated eggs from the cabinet. I laid butter and cream cheese out to soften for baking and spread recipes on the counter for reference. I had committed this day and I would stick to it.
     One thing I have learned over the years about grief is that it causes scatterbrained thoughts and general overall fogginess. It's hard to stay on topic and it's so easy to be distracted. Along this trend, I soon found myself trying to do three things at once from my to-do list. I half started a cupcake recipe, I was arranging flowers in a vase, and I was trying to decide which Easter grass to use for a basket. About this time Audrey walked in with her dogs for an impromptu visit. Her visit made me want to sit down and do nothing other than chat. I realized I was beginning to drown in my lack of focus and I needed either to stick to it or give up. I sat for a few minutes with Audrey, then I got up and got the cupcakes into the oven with the promise of walking the dogs while they baked.

     After circling the fields, we came back in and started going through all the Pysanky eggs together. We handled them and talked about the colors and designs. We arranged only a few and put most away, which was perfect. Audrey ate an unfrosted cupcake and I finally finished arranging those flowers. By the time I started a soup for dinner I began to feel like I was getting back into the grove of my kitchen and home. It felt good to re-acquaint myself with my favorite Saturday hobbies of baking and cooking. I also began to notice a shift in my thoughts. Rather than dwell on the things that life was lacking, I began to feel life's abundance and God's goodness in all of it.   
     In recognizing that Christ the Lord has risen from the grave, we prepare our hearts and souls for abundance. In our sorrow, God's love is abundant. In our pain, God's love is enduring. In our future, God's plan for us is life everlasting, in peace and goodness. Whatever we face on this earth has been answered. It is finished... abundantly!



  1. The first cycle of holidays without a beloved family member seem to be the most difficult, at least it was that way for me. But then the memories of good times shared slowly overtakes the sadness. Wishing you a joyous Easter, Lee.

  2. Those last lines say it all. It sounds as if you had some good healing time.