Everyday Easter.

I love Easter. I always have. I have pictures of me on Easter for almost every year of my life, most of my brother and me holding hands in the backyard, he in horrible pastels and me in an Easter dress made by grandmother's loving hands.

This morning I woke up early, like a child on Christmas, and looked out my window at a glassy lake and clear blue sky. Call my corny, but I couldn't help but smile. I didn't buy an Easter dress this year-- or any year since I was 10, really-- but I pulled out a spring-y linen dress and headed to church.

As I sped down "Church Avenue," (in typical Lindsey fashion, I may or may not have been running a few minutes behind), I was really taken aback by the beauty of this town I live in. On my commute, I pass over the lake and into a small town that I love dearly, past churches teeming with families, and yards spotted with blooms. It really is beautiful, and I felt oddly energized and abuzz with all the new life spring brings. When I arrived, a huge chunk of my church family was gathered outside taking family pictures in front of the flower-laden cross that is an Easter tradition at FBC. Honestly, my heart raced a bit as I took it all in: the beautiful, warm day; the friendly, familiar faces; the reason for the season.

It was there this morning, in front of a cross bursting with life, that Easter really hit me. What we are celebrating today is just that: life. Easter is a holiday that, as a Southern Baptist, I've grown accustomed to. Jesus died on a cross, and on the third day He rose, and now I hide Easter eggs for my little cousins one day out of the year. Sadly, sometimes it's as simple as that. But today I was humbled and reminded of the power of that message. He died, and on the third day he rose. He rose from the dead. He defeated death so that we might live.

So as I sat in the pew this morning, I swelled with what I suppose was pride. I guess I was proud of a God who is mighty to save, proud of a promise that this is not my home, and proud of a relationship with a Savior who created Life and defeated Death. So my next realization was this: why does it take Easter and sunshine and warm breezes to make me feel so victorious? why don't I live everyday with the energy and excitement that I found myself with today? how do I look out the window at a sun that has indeed risen every morning and not shout for joy at a Son that is risen indeed?

People say that the seasons affect your mood; I think I subscribe to this theory. In the winter, the slate grey skies and sharp winds chill me to the bone, and it is truly a challenge for me to find the joy in life under those conditions. But come spring, I am easily exciteable as I watch the sun rise into a cloudless sky and the trees and bushes burst into bloom. I think that's why I've always loved Easter... because it's that yearly turning point from gloom to bloom. My hope this Easter, though, is that next year on this day I won't be surprised by my excitement; my hope is that this time next year I will have lived the past 365 days in an Easter mindset, and I will be just as excited on Easter Sunday as I was on the day before...

He lives! He lives! Christ Jesus lives today! He walks with me and talks with me along life's narrow way!

And that is something to get excited about and stay excited about.