Rachel went to Heaven on the Tuesday before Easter on April 11th 6 years ago. It was so hard that first year to worship a risen Christ on Easter knowing that my daughter’s body lay waiting to be turned into ashes.

The thoughts and memories are still hard, but the worship comes easier; although still often accompanied by tears. Wild flowers bloom in abundance along all the county roads in our rural area. Dogwood trees blossom and I remember my mother telling the little children at Sunday school the legend of the once-mighty, now-fragile tree and its petals that symbolize the crucifixion. I see doe tiptoeing across our property and can tell that there will be new fawns in a couple of months. Hummingbirds made the incredible flight across the Gulf of Mexico a few weeks ago and are now hovering around the feeders and the azaleas.

I stand looking at the little tree in our yard that guards Rachel’s ashes. It has new green leaf buds all over it reminding me that Spring always brings new birth, new growth, and new hope. It is also one of the last trees on our property to leaf each spring. So, it also reminds me to be patient. 

That’s what Easter teaches: renewal, resurrection, rebirth. Wait for it. It will be worth it.


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