A Slow Easter

“I like to be busy. I’m good at being busy,” I say. When I’m busy, I can replace grace with productivity. I have an arsenal of excuses as to why I can’t do this or that. I can justify late nights, panic attacks, and inattentiveness to an “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so busy.” Busy becomes the badge of honor I flash. And boy, is that badge shiny.

The badge of busyness blinds me from where I’m lacking in self-care, relationships, or simply breathing. It is exhilarating.

Going into sophomore year of college, I wanted to be careful that I didn’t overload my schedule. I wanted to be willing to say no. I did say no. Like once. I was so excited to try so many things out and hey, at least I wasn’t as busy as that student. See? I know what I’m doing. But it is never good to have our provision come from our productivity.

There are honest seasons of good busyness. For my sophomore year, those big “seasons” were helping to organize a homecoming event, being part of an incredible team to lead campus in a week of holistic health seminars and events, and performing in the winter musical. When I wasn’t doing these things, I wanted to be doing these things! If only I had some good thing to keep me on my toes every day, right?

If I had been at college this semester, I would have rushed to pack and fly home on Maundy Thursday. I would have then tried to figure out my priorities between the tension of family time/traditions and meeting with friends and the guilty pulls of homework. Flustered, but hopefully happy enough, I would have flown back to campus on Tuesday to finish the semester. All of it done in a rush.

What keeps me busy now? Walks with my mom… episodes of Bones with my twin… staring out the window… Zoom calls. I walk up the stairs, and down again. I watch my other sister do TikTok dances and my other, other sister do huge dot-to-dot books. My dad leads my family in morning team meeting. All these are things that never would have happened. They all teach me to slowly listen.

When Jesus was buried, the disciples lives slowed down. They waited, full of grief and uncertainty about what would come next. Their lives were turned upside-down AGAIN. First, they left everything to follow Jesus, and now, again life wasn’t normal, when Jesus was gone. I imagine them waiting together, not saying much.

It sounds a lot like my Easter now. Waiting to hear news of what will happen next. Full of grief and sorrow for the way life was going to be. Deeply, I have mourned with friends where home is not a safe place, or friends that have had some of their lives’ greatest moments and achievements cut short. I didn’t get to say goodbye to my friends. I hugged my roommate at the airport at spring break, fully believing we’d be back together again in a week. It’s been 5 weeks. I don’t think the disciples had the closure they would have hoped for either. They didn’t get to say good-bye or reminisce before life upended.

Life didn’t go on in some normal way… because JESUS ROSE FROM THE GRAVE. Life defeated death, so that life could change.

My hope is that life will change. This Slow Easter, while we mourn and rejoice, let us also fix our eyes on Jesus, who changes life. That Easter morning, 2000 years ago, wasn’t about putting life back to normal.

These slow days at home are a privilege for me. Slowly I’m leaning into a changed way of living. When the disciples received God’s Spirit, their pace of life changed as they traveled to spread the news of their Risen Lord. However, they weren’t motivated to be busy in order to be distracted. They were focused on hope. This is the same HOPE we rejoice in today.

A dear friend wrote these words on her blog. This hope is our full provision. It changes life, and it is our hope in this slow season. If you are in a busy season, this is still encouraging, because THIS hope is for all, at all times, in all things.

Jesus changes life. Happy Easter.

Love,

 

Photo: Me 🙂