Wednesday, March 23, 2016


Source: Google Images

Easter. Spring. For as long as I can remember, this time of year has been my favorite. Maybe it's just because my birthday is this time of year - spring is the first thing I knew. Maybe it's Easter eggs and bright colors and cute chicks. Maybe it's the gentle warm breezes that pull us out of a crisp winter. Maybe it's new life and sunshine and redemption and hope and promises.

As a kid, I liked spring. Maybe it was bright colors, or pretty flowers, or buying a new Easter dress. Even when I was in the traps of my eating disorder and bound by heavy depression, I still liked spring.

But when I came back to life, Easter and spring gained a new significance.

Though I began treatment in the fall, I embraced recovery in the spring. 
A year later, I was introduced to the gospel in the spring. 
Another year later, I was baptized, in the spring.

When I found the gospel, I was in the midst of a pretty bad relapse with my addiction and depression. I can remember one afternoon, sitting on the floor in my room, crying and desolate and desperate to just feel okay again. And I thought about the things I'd just head about Jesus Christ and realized - it would be okay. It's wasn't at the time, but it would be. And would be okay. The gospel gave me permission to hope, something I hadn't done for a long time.

And that's what Easter is all about, to me. Hope. Redemption. Easter means that life can come out of the ashes. It means that like a phoenix, it doesn't matter how crushed our lives are, how much it looks like it's the end. Because of Christ, it doesn't need to be the end. Because of Him, we can ALL find new life.


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