Easter Morning

Rising before the sun, I quietly scramble around in the dark, so as not to wake my husband, and slip on warm clothes and my boots.  There's a drizzly rain and I'm thinking it's not going to be a nice morning for a sunrise service.  Yet, this has become my Easter tradition and I don't want to miss out on it because of a little rain. 

The cloud cover is thick and it's darker outside than I expected.  I turn on the flashlight on my phone and start climbing the mountain.  I know Jump Off Rock is at the top, but other than the dog trail that the goldens have blazed, there isn't a real trail to follow.  I just keep walking and use the umbrella to push away the spiderwebs and hold back the occasional briars I encounter. After a few minutes, with my elevated heart rate, I step onto a section of the Jump Off Rock trail and the hiking becomes much easier.  It's still eerily dark, and when I make it to the top, I see a group of about fifty other pilgrims who've also journeyed to the top of this mountain to worship and sing Easter morning praises.  

I don't know the pastor who is leading the service, or her denomination.  It matters not, it's her message that I love.  Her message about the miracle of Easter morning, about the women who were the first to see the empty tomb, about the apostles who doubted their message.  Scripture is read - "Why seek ye the living among the dead?", and we sing Christ the Lord is Risen Today.  That one thing may be what lures me up the mountain in the dark each year.   Raising my voice with others to sing about the empty tomb from a mountain top is a choice experience.      

After the service, folks wander back to their cars, but I take my time walking back down the mountain.  I explore the trails around the rock and am in awe of the beauty.  I was wrong when I thought the rain would prevent me from enjoying the service.  I don't need to actually see the sun shining to know that it has risen. 

These large boulders made me feel as though I was near the garden tomb, searching for Jesus.

The raindrops on the budding trees, 

these little wildflowers,

and this flowering tree in the mist remind me of new life that Easter brings.  

As I head down the mountain, I turn around and see these trees in the mist, and am so grateful I made the trip.  I think they are magnificent and a reminder to sink deep, strong roots of faith into my life.  

I worked to climb the mountain, having faith that I knew the way, even though my vision was challenged.  I was rewarded with a spiritual experience on the mountain top.  Now I can see clearly how to get home.   

I take a handful of flowers from the yard to Micah's place and spend a little time praying and reflecting on the blessing of the resurrection and the promise of eternal families.

In a few hours we will sit together in church and partake of the sacrament.  Oh, it is wonderful, that He should care for me enough to die for me.   I love that we partake of the sacrament each week, having the opportunity to renew our covenants and remember our Lord's sacrifice, but Easter Sunday sacrament is the best!

Back at home, the table's set and ready to welcome the family that can be here with us.  The feasting on the Easter meal is a continuation of the celebration that started much earlier in the day, when I trekked up the mountain in the dark.  Jesus has brought his light into my life and now I will try to share it with those I love.  It is such good news.