Encouragement

What Isn’t Can’t Change What Is

I was suppose to be at my Mimi’s house tonight. My Aunt and Momma would be leaning on the counter in the kitchen talking about their kids. My Dad and Uncle would be in the living room with my brothers and sisters and cousin catching up and laughing. My Mimi and Nana would be laying out the final plans for tomorrow, when to put the ham in and take the rolls out, etc. Place cards and table linens would be set aside and ready to lay out before we left for church tomorrow so that when guests started to arrive for lunch, everything would be ready. Poppy would be doing dishes and I’d be drying. We’d be talking about books and theology. He’d say something like, “You sure are pretty” and I’d tell him he was a blind old man. We’d laugh. We’d all be together, and it would be wonderful. It would feel like home. It would feel right.

But tonight I’m sitting on my couch in a different state watching the sun set behind the trees in our backyard. My Dad and brother are figuring out how to get our whole family on a Zoom call tomorrow since we’ll all be states apart. My Nana is far away at her house alone. My Aunt and Uncle are at their house probably tucking my cousin into bed, no bags packed for a trip. Poppy is probably still doing dishes, but I’m not there to help him. It just hurts to think about how far away we all are, and how much we had anticipated being together tonight.

During all of this, Mimi, longtime hostess of the well known holiday dinners, wrote a few words to us all. After reading them, I knew that whatever I had to say wasn’t what I wanted to share with you all on this night before Resurrection Sunday. Her words were what needed to be shared.

It’s late Saturday afternoon, the day before Easter and all is quiet. The road is quiet. There are no tables being set with what was to be the first year of paper plates (I knew that wasn’t a good idea).  No autograph table cloth being pressed and ready for pen and ink.  No brisket.  No green bean bundles.  When tomorrow comes there’ll be no aroma of fresh baked bread. No rolling of the eyes (you know who you are) when I ask you to look for your nametag.  No friends faithfully doing the dishes.  And no kids running through the backyard looking for eggs, hunting and squealing with delight dodging a  flower here and there.  It will be different.  Nothing stays the same.  Except the one thing no person,  no sickness or no pandemic can take from any of us.  Jesus.  And tomorrow we can all say together wherever we are – 
He has risen.  He has risen indeed!

It will be different, and yes, the silence where laughter was anticipated hurts. The vacant spaces in driveways and on the streets are hard to look at. Empty tables, unused paper plates (or fancy china), and eggs left to be found remind us of what isn’t. My dear Mimi reminded us though that what isn’t can’t change what is. I’m thankful for a grandmother who won’t let us forget to remember what’s true.

And that’s what I wanted to share tonight.

His is risen. Whether we are with our families or not. Whether we have houses filled for Easter dinner or not. Whether we can be at church and sing with our brothers and sisters or not. Whether this Resurrection Sunday is filled with age old traditions that feel like home or not.

It will be different. Nothing stays the same. Except Jesus.

Tomorrow, wherever you are, say with us all –

He has risen. He has risen indeed!

5 thoughts on “What Isn’t Can’t Change What Is

  1. Thank you for your post! It’s really hard I know. I hope you still get to have a beautiful Easter tomorrow. (Thank God god parents and siblings to live with haha:) my heart hurts with you but just remember you’re not alone.
    Thank you for your joyful heart!
    You are a blessing.

    Like

  2. Thank you for your post! It’s really hard I know. I hope you still get to have a beautiful Easter tomorrow. (Thank God for parents and siblings to live with haha:) my heart hurts with you but just remember you’re not alone.
    Thank you for your joyful heart!
    You are a blessing.

    Like

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