Easter has always been a joyous occasion for my family, filled with cherished memories. As a young girl, I eagerly anticipated our trips to Nashville with Mom to buy my Easter dress and shoes. While Mama’s hand-stitched dresses were always a delight, Easter meant a special store-bought one.
There was a children’s store on the outskirts of town that had the prettiest dresses a young girl could imagine. Hats with lace trim, white gloves, ribbons, and petticoats filled every corner as little girls and their mothers oohed and aahed.
On Easter Sunday, church pews were filled to the brim with women donning wide-brimmed hats and men dodging them when their lady turned their heads. Excited children snickered and squirmed, babies cried, and the choir sang louder than usual.
After the Sunday services, our family traveled to meet the cousins for our annual egg hunt at our grandparents’ home, an hour away. There were seven of us who were close in age and competitive. Nancy and I were the only girls, so we needed to be diligent. Those crazy boys would cheat and do all sorts of stunts to find the egg worth one crisp dollar bill.
Granddaddy always hid the golden egg, while our grandmother helped us by yelling, “You’re getting hot!” and when we took a step, “Nope, you just cooled off!” She had more fun than anyone by often giving crazy directions that turned us in circles.
This old verse comes to mind: “When I was a child, I spoke as a child and thought and reasoned as a child does. But when I became an adult, my thoughts grew far beyond my childhood, and now I have put away the childish things.” Corinthians: 13:11
Well, kind of. I still love to hunt eggs, buy a new dress, and diligently try to defeat the boys who cheat. However, as the years and the Easter Sundays fade into memories, I know where gold is hidden.
The happy moments of our childhood are like a warm blanket woven within us. My cousins and I were truly blessed to be surrounded by such love from our family.
There isn’t one of us who hasn’t endured hard times, broken hearts, and illnesses, but we learned early that locating the golden egg wasn’t the prize; finding Christ was. As much as our parents and grandparents loved us, the Lord loved us more.
At a recent church service, many 13-year-olds were confirmed. Several spoke to the congregation about how much Jesus meant to them. As I listened, I realized nearly everyone said, “Christ is my best friend.”
No matter our age or who we meet, we will never know a friend, companion, or father like Christ. He doesn’t care about the dress or suit we wear or the money or games we win, but He treasures the day we seek and find Him.
I remember a very lonely time in my life. A relationship had ended, my father and brother had passed away, and my children were grown. I felt completely alone. It was dark in my living room as I sat on the sofa, resting my head on a pillow and crying like a baby. In the midst of my sorrow and despair, I thought I felt someone sitting next to me on the cushion.
Startled, I sat up to find no one there. However, a wave of comfort washed over me, and I distinctly heard a voice say, “Lynn, you are never alone, even in your loneliest moments.”
Jesus reminded me that even if we can’t feel His touch, He is still holding our hands.
My friend still sits on my sofa when lonely days drift in and out of the years. He listens without judgment, calms my worries, and always hands me a lesson in faith and hope.
I can’t begin to count the times the Lord reminded me of a story or nagged me until I wrote it. And the many times my sins made Him cry, yet He forgave me even when I couldn’t forgive myself.
Because He lived through death, I have no fear of dying. I hate hate, love love, and know without Christ coming into this world and giving His life for us, I would know very little and be very small. I would probably still be looking for the dollar bill to make me wealthy instead of the golden riches I found in the risen Lord.
Praise God for such a treasure.
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Lynn Walker Gendusa is a Tennessee-raised, Georgia-residing author and columnist. Her latest book is “Southern Comfort: Stories of Family, Friendship, Fiery Trials, and Faith.” She can be reached at www.lynngendusa.com. For more of her inspirational stories, click here.
