Grad party preparations were in progress this morning as my mom and I braved the dust, dead bugs, and junk on our screened-in porch. Two space heaters (conveniently acquired when our furnace was tagged “dangerous” by the furnace inspection guy this winter, so the heating company provided them for the night spent without heat) kept us warm since this week the temperature has dipped a bit from the unusual highs we’ve been experiencing lately. The dust started swirling as we went through shelves full of garden supplies, badminton rackets, a random piece of tupperware (we’re not sure how it got out there since we usually keep tupperware in a cupboard in the kitchen… because that makes sense.), too many flip-flops, beach towels, a tube of sunscreen that looked like someone had sent the lawnmower over it (DAD???), and a can of spray adhesive… among other things.
two short breaths in, and CHOO! That’s how I sneeze. (I’m sure you were wondering.) Not only have the influx of pollen and a night spent around woodsmoke helped me clear out my sinuses by sneezing, but now we have dust as well to keep me sneezing. I, however, like the sort of strange individual that I am, enjoy sneezing. I can’t explain it, but I feel like it’s a release. Like I’m saying LEAVE, pollen. Clear out the premises, dust. And while we’re cleaning house, get out, Anxiety. You too, Selfishness. Out, out, Irritation! I won’t be missing you!
I should sneeze out my faults and hangups more often.
I almost blogged last night about how the empty tomb is inviting to me in more than one way – the first being because it’s a catalyst for rejoicing that my Savior is alive, the second being that it could be a place of retreat for an introvert… – but then I realized that the second reason made me sound depressingly creepy. I don’t really want to spend time alone in a dark, cold, hard, lonely tomb. I’d rather have a little room painted lime green all to myself, where pictures of people adorn the walls, but I am alone. So, there you go. I’m introverted but not depressed or creepy. And I’m not a hermit either.
In fact, I went to a party last night. Not your typical party, since it was actually a church service, but it felt like a party. I’ve mentioned before that I go to church twice each Sunday. The first time is in the morning, at my more traditional Baptist church. The second is at 7pm at a slightly younger, much more contemporary church. The morning service was great; I even went to it twice since I was doing the powerpoint for both services. But the 7pm was exactly how I think we should celebrate the resurrection.
There was crêpe paper on the walls and strung over the two trees in the room. After Joe (who I found out a couple weeks ago has the same last name as me) spoke about letting go of our doubts and surrendering to God, we started to sing like the saved. We sang and clapped and jumped around and danced like we’d been set free. Because we have been. If there hadn’t been a great feeling of joy and gratitude to my God behind all that, I would have been the one standing in the corner, judging and wondering why people were being so rowdy. But it was so clear that it wasn’t about the jumping and clapping and singing – it was just an outpouring from the hearts of people who had been redeemed in the most remarkable way possible. It was the celebration of people whose God had conquered death and sin forever, once for all.
That, my friends, is joy. That’s where hope and joy spring from, knowing that my God has overcome all the things that face me in life.
I intend to sing like I’m saved a little more often.
Also, we dyed Easter eggs. With a glitter dye kit. It was maybe the most fun I’ve ever had with egg dying.