Hollow Chocolate Bunny Ears

When I find a colorful basket with all sorts of chocolate at the front door of my house, I have come to realize it's probably Easter. My dad would knock on the wall and we would think it was the door and we would run like mad to the front door and look outside.. of course we always "just missed him", but we got over it quickly when the promise of "being good, so the Easter Bunny would come see us" was fulfilled. Hollow chocolate bunny ears were the reason for Easter in my book. A dirty cold windy holiday in the 70's in Oklahoma, I didn't really understand it, but candy was king to a 7 year old with a very big imagination about a 3 ft rabbit with a bow tie, a vest and a top hat over one bent ear.

I have "earned" a new perspective about Easter at this point. I still like chocolate bunnies, but they don't carry the weight of that "end-all-be-all" holiday yumminess that I associated with them before..
No, my new perspective comes from years of being a pretty "good" guy and then having my layers removed like a rotten head of lettuce to reveal that I wasn't a "good" kid who didn't get into much trouble, I was allowed to experience the fire that burns away the outer layer and expose my true character. I have one of those characters that they don't write about in books. You know those kind of books, typically they win a Pulitzer prize or Oprah is parading them around for her audience and the Author usually experiences 15 minutes of fame off the heels of the media mogul. Those kinds of books that describe men who fly airplanes. Men who fly airplanes always have a strong jaw, handsome mustache and a silk scarf. Men who stand firm when accused of wrong doing and are never guilty anyway because they don't commit atrocities like eating too much ice cream. Those kind of men have the kind of character to run for Senator from their state and know they don't want to go any higher in office because their political ambitions would eventually tarnish the desire of the people they serve. Godly, wonderful amazing men that are hero's in their home towns and have signs posted on the road telling how this is the home town of such and such, and then everyone in the car looks around and smiles because the man's character is second to none. I did not have that kind of character. No, my character is a blemished, lying teenager who is criticized as a coward because he lies to keep from being punished. Yep.. that was me.
When your character is revealed, it really IS like standing naked in public. You know that dream, right? where your naked in the grocery store?? everyone is going about their business and buying the dozen eggs that somehow were priced under a dollar for a couple of days because Easter is a huge day for the sale of eggs and the store owners know they will sell out anyway, and they are buying their daily ration of things they need to make their meals, and there you are, standing in bread isle where the Whizzo butter top bread is on sale for $1.19, and you are naked as the day you were born. It's that same feeling man. No one else really pays attention, but those who do, sneer and cluck their judgements at you in sort of a back alley, gutter trash "you should have been better" sort of way.
I won't go into the murky details of my sin because we aren't here for that..
I was an ordained minister, a man of God, a leader in my church. I was a public office in my community. I stood for value, honesty and integrity. People would drive by my house on 5Th Street to smile at my blond haired children and my beautiful wife who enjoyed a life of motherhood and flowerbeds in the spring. I was the pilot with the silk scarf, and life crashed down around my facade.
It's funny, when life crashes down? You are ALWAYS left all alone and you find yourself crying out to the God you abandoned and spit on because of the false security that was erased when your world collapsed.

When you are alone.. truly alone.. you find yourself at the feet of him. Abba Father. The one TRUE God. Not the false God we all try to please? but God who bends down in the dirt, wipes the caked sweat and tears from our face and smiles. He isn't the God that Religion and the "House of the Frozen Chosen" down the street says we should do our best to please. It was when he met me there, that I finally got it. I finally realized what all the fuss was about. He met me in the midst of my hell and horror, and he allowed me to cry it all out and realize that when the rest of the world abandons you, and trust me, they do, he will be there in that place to say "I love you". He is passionate towards us, his love is like a storm on the horizon in the Spring and when we finally succumb to him, he blows on us with a fury of love that washes over us and we become engulfed and we simply enjoy just being his.

For a little boy who grew up in a performance based home where love was withheld and only bestowed when I had been good and I might achieve something if I ever became as good or as large as the man who I called Daddy, it was a shock to my system to realize that true grace existed. Not the kind of grace they sing about out of hymnals or that are accompanied by an organ and everyone swells with emotion. I'm talking about the grace that found me in my state of disgrace and shame. The Father's love is never never never based on performance, never conditioned by his mood. He isn't too pissed off at the people he works with, to stop and play catch with us. It's always kind, always tender, always genuine and always smiling.

I write this today my friends because it's the season of Easter. A season when Christ life was extinguished and snuffed out because the Father whom we serve decided that if we were to EVER see his true character, it would take a loving Father to allow his OWN son to take our pain and hurt away and to see him for who he is. Not the radical tyrant who sits on a thrown like Zeus and hurls lightning at us when we don't turn on the blinker at a turn. Neither is he the pasty old grandpa who sits like a benign spectator in the bleachers and cheers for us when we show up for our morning quiet time. He is the one who simply loves us when we love life. When I am awash with awe over the majesty of the morning sun, he smiles at my joy, and I am filled at that moment with Awe and Wonder, because he loves me enough to do all over every day, just because I am his.

Happy Easter friends..