Easter Memories
I grew up in a very small church on the far west side of Phoenix. My grandmother raised her four children there, and my family attended there for most of my childhood. It was a place where everybody knew everybody and we felt like one big family.
My favorite holiday growing up was Easter because my church made it special. We would all show up before sunrise and set up folding chairs in the little lawn behind the church building. As the sun came up, we would sing worship songs and hear a special message about Easter. After the service, the men of the church would make and serve a pancake breakfast, while the women got a much-needed rest or kept an eye on the smaller children.
After the meal, the older children would hide Easter eggs in the tall bushes that surrounded the lawn. Then the younger children with their bright baskets would hunt for the eggs. I especially remember an older gentleman who would keep a few eggs in his pockets to make sure all the kids were able to find something.
The sermons on Easter Sundays were special, too. I remember hearing about how God the Father loved us so much that he sent his Son to live in the world – fully human and fully God; how he was accused of crimes he didn’t commit and condemned to die a horrible death; how he was buried in a tomb covered by a huge stone; and how he came back to life on the third day and many days later returned to his Father in Heaven.
He did all that for us, to provide forgiveness for our sins: “because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9), and “everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name” (Acts 10:43).
We moved away and started attending another church after I finished 6th grade, but I’m grateful for those early years of Easter memories – memories of being with my family and extended church family, eating pancakes, hunting for eggs, and finally being old enough to join the “big kids” hiding the eggs.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was gathering a lot more than colored eggs in a basket. I was being saturated in the gospel of Jesus Christ, and just like the “big kids” at my church, my time would come to share that gospel with others. I hope you will join me this Easter to look for people with empty baskets who need to hear the good news about God’s love and mercy. And if you’re one of the people still searching, come and join us this Easter. I think we might have what you’re looking for.
By Janet Ruth
