I Yearned for Something More: The Journey from Platitude to a Personal Easter Experience

By, Mirjami Budarz

From my childhood, in Finland, I remember Palm-Sunday and sweet songs of Hosanna in the church and heart; the house was cleaned for the holy-days, our long farm table was decked with linen cloth, pussy willow branches were put in a large vase and decorated with ornaments. Grandma and mother baked many kind of special Easter pastries, and cooked. We children colored eggs.

From my the teenager years I remember, that during passion week the radio played only classical music and hymns and movie theaters featured somber religious movies, if any. It was a long boring week, time of waiting and suffering. Then Easter came, and I felt obligated go to church and hear of death, burial and resurrection of Christ. The church bells chimed, and I yearned for something more. Then we finally had our festive family meal. Life was “on” again.

As a young adult, a new mother, Easter became cutesy, with new outfits, a time of furry Easter bunnies, egg hunts, candy and a noisy festive meal at Grandma's house, and I yearned for something more.

Then something happened in the early seventies, during Chicago's, hot summer, during a time of social and spiritual upheaval, a time when tanned hippies slept on the beach with their dogs, marijuana, and incense smells lingered in the humid air. A time when long haired young women walked barefoot, dressed in fringed cutoff jeans and halter tops, peace signs dangling on chains around their necks, including mine. The time when our little son waited excitedly for a baby-brother whom he wanted to name after his favorite car, Buick. A time when our money was tight,Vietnam war was ending or over. Time of our second baby's birth, (no we didn't name him Buick)...And I yearned for something more.

Suddenly.. the name Jesus started to pop up in every-day conversations, there were signs of surprising spiritual quests everywhere. I heard of Him during the frequent walks with my little boys to the newly opened health store; He followed me to the farmers market and Indian restaurant or past the transcendental meditation-yoga shop. I heard 

(more like a haunting) of Jesus almost anywhere I went...and constantly my own thoughts drifted to God. Finally one evening I knelt in the alone-ness by my bedside and prayed simply: “Jesus if you are real, I need to know you, come into my life.”

Then, the first time since childhood, I heard a sweet Hosanna song in my heart as a bitter-sweet Easter exchange took place, and what had been just a platitude turned to a deep personal experience.

Holy son of God gave His life as ransom for mine. I sold Him for 30 pieces of silver, He made me His priceless treasure. I denied him, He adopted me in His family. And as I yelled, “crucify Him”, He prayed, “Father forgive her, she knows not what she is doing.” As I hammered the nails in His sacred hands, He carved my name in His palms. When I jabbed a crown of thorns on His brow, He promised me the crown of life. And as I stripped Him naked, He gave me a robe of righteousness. When I pierced His side, He made my heart His habitation. As I wrapped His dead body in burial cloths and spices, He gave me His life, washed me white as snow and I became a sweet savor of Him. I felt ashamed of what I had done and hid Him behind a stone, there He became my corner stone and rock of salvation. I left Him alone in tomb, but death could not keep Him, for His name was Life.

And when He rose on the early dawn of that long-ago Easter-morning, He proclaimed, “I will never leave nor forsake you.” Therefore now I profess, “My Lord and my King,” and as His cherished child I sing joyfully again:

“Into the city I'd follow the children's band, waving a branch of the palm tree high in my hand;                                                        one of his heralds, yes, I would sing, loudest hosannas, "Jesus is King!"

                                           

Bio:

Author and artist Mirjami Budarz was born in Finland after WWII into a large displaced Karelian family. Later she moved with her family to Germany and eventually the United States retiring in Wilmington, NC, with her husband in 2008. A short story of Mirjami’s was published in Guidepost’s, Unexpected Answers and she has illustrated two children’s books. 

Heavenly Appetizer

Father, I want these whom you have given me to be with me where I am. Then they will see all the glory you gave me because you loved me even before the world began. John 17:24.

By, Sondra Dron

Jesus once allowed me to see what it will be like when I am with him.

I dreamed I was standing on the grounds of a large estate. A magnificent house stood on an upward slope of land. A grove of trees towered over me. The sunlight played in the leaves above and the grassy moss formed a carpet beneath my feet.

Someone touched my shoulder and I turned. Without a word, He put his hand on my back and we waltzed. We skillfully twirled and swayed beneath the trees, in and out, from shade to sun. I marveled at my ability to dance so grandly. I noticed His suit, which resembled a military dress uniform, light in color and adorned with applets, braid and medals earned.

 I lifted my eyes to see His face. It was Jesus. My knees went weak, but He held me firm.

I struggled between an impulse to run away and a desire to experience the intimacy and exhilaration of the dance. I stayed. I drew closer to His chest, unable to look into His eyes again, but wanting to.

He slowed our steps and, putting His arm at my waist, led me toward a path sloping downward. Approaching a place where the ground dropped off sharply, we turned and continued until we came to the bottom of the small cliff. In the cliff, an area like a porch was hollowed out. I was drawn to a richly upholstered bench. I sat down and He followed. The rock hung overhead; gentle rivulets of water danced off the edge.

We sat silently for awhile then He pointed through the soft cascade. The land swept downward, covered in rich grass until it became a wood. Beyond the trees was a still blue lake reaching to the horizon. He put His arm behind me on the bench and leaned toward me.

“I made this all for you,” He said.

I looked into His eyes once more and my dream was gone.

I find comfort recalling the dream. My anticipation grows as I remember His promise: “And if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me, that you also may be where I am.” John 14:3 NIV

As you ponder the cross and the resurrection this Holy Week, remember that Jesus was looking beyond the cross to the day that He and we will be joyful together where He is.

Anticipate! Rejoice!
Has Jesus given you a dream of heaven?

Sondra Dron loves to help others find intimacy with Jesus. Her passion is to point children to Jesus so they can know Him fully. Her current project is a devotional book for boys. She lives in Wilmington with her husband, David.

Back It Up, Girlfriend!

By, Beth Jarrott

My goal was to join the blogosphere by March of 2014. For months I’d been researching, writing and editing a month’s worth of posts before launching my blog. I even bought Blogging for Dummies.

 The day of launching my blog finally arrived.

I bounced upstairs and fired up my laptop, clicked on the folder labeled “First Month’s Blog”  and for whatever reason, I decided to change its name. Only instead of clicking “Rename,” I clicked “Delete!”

No. No. This can’t be happening!

I remembered the Recycle Bin.

 Yay!

I popped it open only to discover that it had been disabled. Apparently when I bought my laptop a year ago, the person who installed the software didn’t think the Recycle Bin necessary and disabled it.

At that moment  I remembered the episode of Sex In The City where Carrie Bradshaw’s beloved laptop crashed. (I think it’s the only entire episode of Sex In The City I've ever watched) She, too, was a writer. She rushed her laptop to some computer geek only to hear, “It’s not looking good. Did you back it up?”

 “Back it up?” She yells. “No! I didn’t back it up!”

 Panic-stricken like Carrie Bradshaw, I drove my laptop to the nearest computer repair shop.

 God can make a way where there seems to be no way, I kept breathing.

 The computer whiz asked me, “Did you backup your stuff?”

 If I had backed it up, I wouldn't be here!

He ran two recovery programs through my computer, to no avail. Since the Recycle Bin had been disabled, my laptop obliterated the file. All my hard work vanished, with one simple click. I wanted to cry.

Unlike Carrie Bradshaw, comforted only by her Louboutin, lacquered red soles; I drew comfort from the Savior of my soul.

I was now tasked with rewriting a month’s worth of posts.

I wanted to give up.

But fellow Word Weavers  prayed for me.They prayed that my rewrites would surpass the original ones.

As I started over, I remembered reading Franklin Graham’s book, Rebel With A Cause. In it he shared how his wife, Jane Austin, had accidentally deleted an entire book he had written. He immediately went into action, and for the next several months he rewrote his book. Consequently, it turned out to be a God thing – the rewrite was better than the original he said.

On April 1^st, 2014, I finally launched my blog My Encore Life of Raising My Grandchildren. (click on link)

Like Franklin Graham, I liked my rewrite even better. God doesn't waste anything.

Backing Up Your Stuff!

Typically, I backup my stuff. I really do! Except for about a month, I wasn't backing up anything. I was so focused on writing, I simply forgot.

We buy insurance for our homes, cars, boats, businesses and more. We need to think of backups as data insurance.There are a plethora of programs to backup data (saving information to other sources). For example: Google Cloud, Skydrive, Carbonite, a flash drive, or simply saving your documents to an email folder.

 And girlfriend, you can bet Carrie Bradshaw’s designer shoes, I’ll be backing up my prose from here on! 

How about you, are you backing up your stuff?

Beth Jarrott is a native of Wilmington, North Carolina, where she lives an Encore Life  with her husband, Tom, and their two granddaughters, Grace and Bella. For over a decade she traveled throughout North Carolina providing self-esteem programs in youth prisons, detention centers and training schools. She is also a writer, speaker, lover of Jesus, and in the summer months she can often be found dipping her toes into the great Atlantic Ocean. Visit her blog: My Encore Life of Raising myGrandchildren. (click on link)