Too often, the bright light of Easter morning dims over time as I return to my daily routine. In mere days, the humdrum replaces the extraordinary, tragedy overcomes festivity, darkness overwhelms dawn. The world encourages this, and I don’t muster enough resistance. I climb right back into the tomb of my sin, move the huge stone back in place, and lie there waiting for rot to settle in.
I am not alone. I have plenty of company with me behind the stone. There is no excuse for us to be there still.
The stone is pushed aside, the burden shouldered, the debt completely paid.
How can we allow the light to dim?
He is risen. We are eastered.
I need to live that truth, not wait for rot.