Resurrection, part 1

I looked out the window. There was no sunrise. The clouds looked like they could dump rain any time . I flopped back on my bed and pulled the covers to my chin.

“God, it’s Easter. It is a special day, and I still don’t know how to celebrate it.”

“Come out to the deck with Me.”

I pushed back my covers, rolled out of bed, pulled on sweat bottoms and a hoody jacket, and headed toward the deck. I didn’t really feel like going, but after the last ten months, I knew I would be glad I did.

The rocker creaked, and I tried to listen for His voice, but my mind kept finding places to wander.

Wonder if the purple rose bush is going to come out or if it really died. Still need to work the front beds. I don’t know if the zinnia seeds made it through leaf cover or not. Maybe I should just mulch everything, but when it rains hard it’ll wash the mulch under the eaves. Maybe I should put down gravel there and mulch everything else. There is grass coming up in the gravel walk by the house. I need to weed the gravel.

Sorry, God.

I tried to pull my mind back to focus on Him.

After a few more mind adventures, I prayed in disgust, “Dear God, help me concentrate. I really want to hear what You want to say about Easter.”

“Don’t call it Easter. It’s Resurrection.”

My mind floated back over the last year: marital separation, Mom’s cancer and death, my husband wanting a divorce, his sudden death due to a heart attack, friendships spanning decades coming to abrupt ends, circumstances leading to family split, and…

“Lord, what should I be believing You’ll resurrect?”

My mind was filled with thoughts of the many times the Lord had spoken to me in the last week and repeatedly promised, “I’ll give you the desires of your heart.”

“Lord, I still don’t really know the desires of my heart. You keep asking, but I don’t know.”

“I do.” The words were filled with kind assurance and a gentle smile.

I leaned my head back in the chair and stared ahead.

I used to think I knew the desires of my heart, but in the disintegration of what I used to call my life, they seemed to have disappeared with everything else. My compass for what I was moving toward had disappeared with them. It seemed that life had simply become a to-do list of getting Rob’s estate settled and finding the horizontal surfaces in my house, which had been mostly missing since he died. What happened when the to do list was finished? What happened when the piles of “deal with later” had been dealt with and conquered? People kept talking about forward motion, but I wasn’t sure what I was moving toward anymore.

For years my goal had been to see my marriage healed and made whole. Now, I seemed to be adrift with no clear direction. I had no idea what I was supposed to do or what I was working toward.

I do.

“Lord, what is the desire of my heart?”

That is when I saw it.

(Please join me tomorrow for "Resurrection, part 2)