Easter Sunday will never be the same. To me, it has always been the celebration of God's power, the satisfying of His wrath, and His triumph over the sin of man. But now it will also be the anniversary of a death. My mind is charred with images of friends shrouded in black, and my heart is stirred with pangs of regret and endearing words spoken too late. Too young, too soon, too many unnecessary tears.
As family and friends touted the finer points of his life and personality, I was struck with the realization that my friends may not be able to say the same things about me. Granted, I'm not him, but the qualities that touched their lives are ones I would do right to emulate. But sometimes I find myself living my life like He's already finished making that proverbial, dramatic change in me, and there's not much left to do but tweak here and refine there. True, He has done an amazing work these past 10 years in quelling my irrational anger, but shoot, I ain't perfect...not even close! I walked away from the memorial wanting so much to step aside and allow God to continue to change me, however painful the molding might be. I have to trust that He will complete the good work He has started in me, however much time I have left on this earth.
May you find rest, L.
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