My first Easter as a married woman.

We celebrated Easter in Binghamton, work has been kicking our butts, and I've got that "Ho Hey" song stuck in my head.  Okay, that last one was more of a random, unimportant thought to share.  Still, there are a lot of thoughts to unpack, but since I'm a big fan of linear thinking, we'll go in the order I've said them.

Nathan and I did indeed celebrate our first Easter as a married couple in our alma mater town.  Most of our friends there assumed we were on our way down to NYC or were passing through Binghamton on our return home to Rochester.  But neither were true.  The original plan was always Rochester-to-Binghamton, Binghamton-back-to-Rochester.  

Ironically, Easter was never a big thing to celebrate in my community growing up.  I say, 'ironically,' because as Christians, it should be one of our biggest celebrations of the year.  Very arguably bigger than Christmas.  It's the day we recognize Jesus's power to conquer death, the penalty he took on himself though we deserved it.  Declaring, "Christ is risen!" and, "Alleluia!" doesn't even seem to capture the magnitude of awe for what Christ has done.

But I don't have many childhood memories of making Easter a big deal.  My family didn't get together to have a special meal, and my church would maybe sing some special songs and put white, smelly lilies at the foot of the sanctuary podium.  Besides those few things and my Sunday School teacher saying, "Happy Resurrection Sunday!" to everyone he passed by, Easter more often than not didn't feel very different from any other Sunday.  And it's only within the past several years where I actually began to care enough to notice and grew a desire to do something about it.  

Now, even though I come from an Asian American Christian background/community, I can't assume or blatantly generalize that we're not joyful or that the way we express it is simply wrong (I can rant about the ideas I have for ways the Asian American Christian community could celebrate Easter in a special way without losing or diminishing our Asian American culture, but that's a post I've already done somewhat and can continue at another time).  Instead, my desire comes from a place of wanting to partake in a corporate celebration that expresses deep, gracious joy in a way that's special from ordinary days but isn't so completely different that it distracts me from the true focus. 

Visiting Binghamton was a great opportunity to fulfill this desire.  Last year, Nathan attended the Anglican Church of the Good Shepherd's (a church we've been to several times because some of our friends go there) Easter Vigil and Sunday Easter Service and joined the MacQuarrie family (InterVarsity volunteers) Easter dinner as well.  Nathan's love and appreciation of worship through liturgy (as well as the pastor's teaching), and the notorious chaos of the MacQuarrie family get-togethers had won him over so much that he asked me if we could go back this year.  Although my introverted side of me cringed a little, the idea of visiting friends and celebrating Easter in a new way immediately outweighed any of my hesitations.    

There are so many thoughts I could share from this great weekend (though it had its hiccups as well), but since it's the end of Easter weekend I'll share one thing that struck me during the Easter service sermon:

I am like the women who went to Jesus' tomb with embalming spices.  Like them, I have been following Jesus for a long time.  Like them, I know His promises in my head.  And I've tried and tried and tried to jump-start this knowledge as felt reality.  But this year it's been hard to feel His presence.  And as this year has gone on, it has gotten harder to believe His promises.  As I said earlier, ministry work has been kicking my butt - and when your husband's ministry work is also kicking his butt, and you're adjusting to married life with someone who's almost your complete opposite while also trying to develop solid community from scratch in the post-grad world, it can take a toll on your already waning relationship with Jesus.  I began to mourn the loss of my relationship with Jesus the way the women were convinced Jesus was not coming back. 

But today, while there was no bursting whoop-de-doo moment or tear-jerking movement, Jesus has reminded me of His hope.  I was faced with the reality that Jesus' promises are not grounded in the strength of my emotive will.  Today, Jesus has filled my empty heart with true joy despite my circumstances.  And though I've heard the Easter story over and over again many times, today Jesus gave me a fresh glimpse of the fullness of his conquer over the grave.  Alleluia, alleluia!

With Barb MacQuarrie's, "Once you have a seat at our table, there'll always be a seat for you," comment, it looks like Nathan and I have a new Easter celebration tradition to partake in that I will certainly look forward to each year.