When I was growing up, I went through a big Christian romance novel phase. (Why does that embarrass me to admit!?) I specifically remember one of these books had a character who went to church on Easter and cried during the service. Now this was probably 15-20 years ago, so give me a little grace when I admit that I thought that seemed a little dramatic. Don’t get me wrong, I knew Easter was a big deal – I mean HELLO Jesus rose from the dead – but I was a little 13 year old who couldn’t comprehend everything Easter really meant. I’m happy to report that as I’ve matured I’ve developed a much more profound appreciation for exactly what Easter means for my life, and even more, what it means for Eric’s death.

Good Friday and Easter were the last services Eric was able to attend at our church. (Fun fact, the official last church service and/or outing Eric attended was for our godson Jase’s baptism on May 1st. He could barely walk because he was so weak, but it meant everything for him to be able to be there.) During those services I remember thinking about Eric’s impending death and the implications the actions of these days had on his ability to live out the rest of his life without overwhelming fear. After he died and I put it together that Easter was his last church service I remember thinking how beautiful and symbolic and fitting that seemed. Christ defeated the grave so that Eric wouldn’t stay in his.

Eric also used Jesus prayer before his crucifixion as a template for his own prayer requests. He prayed for healing from his cancer, but often still ended that prayer with ‘not my will but yours be done’. Maybe not those words exactly, and certainly not every prayer, but enough for people to know that he trusted in God’s plan, whatever that meant for his life. I wish I could say that I had the same attitude from the beginning, but Eric came to that acceptance much more quickly than I did.

I have had two Easters now without Eric, and I have cried at both services, and thought of that stupid book at both services…and I’m sure I will again this year too. Eric’s death made Easter so much more important to me – obviously it had already meant more to me than it did when I was 13, but Eric’s death just made the hope and promise of Easter so much more real and personal. It’s the promise of being together again in Heaven, and joyfully worshiping our Savior and thanking Him for His sacrifice on Easter, and hopefully understanding His plan for taking Eric away from us on Earth so soon.

Also, how weird that I remember such a small part of a book that I don’t even recall the title of, and that it’s tied in to my life all these years later??

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives, every fear is gone. I know He holds my life, my future in His hands. Happy Easter.