10 Apr What will you wear on Easter?

Resurrection Sunday is my favorite day.

Some {non-judgmental} context … we don’t “do” Egg hunts, Easter baskets or the Easter Bunny. Matching outfits is the lone non-Jesus related thing we do on this day – remnants, I suppose, of a childhood where my mother made us matching dresses every year and picking out the fabric was a high point every year. {We didn’t get a whole lot of brand new dresses. This was big.}

Alaska, 2010.

I color coordinate our babies, I pick out the husband’s shirt, I force them to stand around for pictures, which my husband accommodates with a minimum of eye-rolling. I love these yearly pictures, these chronological records of the map of our family. First, we match. Happens once a year. Second, our pictures are full to the brim with shining happy faces, each one a little fuller as the threads of our story wind around us.

Alaska, 2011.

Kansas, 2012.

We have experienced the truth and hope of the gospel countless times in the whole of our lives. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – these photos represent one moment of joy, of perfection on the other side of a whole host of valleys.

2016 was a year of valleys. Internal ones mostly, deep, and sometimes solitary. It was a year of breaking for me, for my husband, for our idols. Our hearts have been tender and torn even as we smile wide, grinning ear to ear for a snapshot that doesn’t quite tell the whole of our story.

Tennessee, 2013.

See, we live in a broken world, where all of creation longs for redemption. But oh friends, in the face of so much heartbreak in the world, still, we cling to hope.

Tennessee, 2014.

Hope for the things we cannot see, hope for redemption, the hope of Glory. Hope in the gospel. 

Tennessee, 2015.

On Resurrection Sunday, we will be sharply dressed on the outside, but friends, as usual our hearts are naked and raw.

Virginia, 2016.

But if we’re going to be undressed and ragged inside, church is the best place to be. Not just padded chairs and white siding kind of church, but nestled in the body church. Community kind of church. Worshipping the Risen King together. Rejoicing, because HE IS WHO HE SAYS HE IS.

It changes EVERYTHING. It covers our bare and tattered souls with hope. He is RISEN.

And this life,  the horrendous, the hard, the treasured, and the torn up bits – ALL OF IT – for His glory. 

I hope you are undressed on Resurrection Sunday. Invite some ragged friends to experience hope, peace, and the truth of the gospel.

Celebrate victory over death.

~M.