Posterous theme by Cory Watilo

Warning: A sentimental Easter meditation.

Right before Easter, our seminary started selling Easter lilies to be placed on the altar in memory of people we loved who were now enjoying eternity.  I kept thinking how much I'd love to buy two, one for my grandmother (Grandmere), and one for my grandfather (PawPaw), but in the hustle and bustle of senior year I never did.  I mentioned this regret during Easter Vigil to my close friend Jessie, because I kept smelling them and the scent brought the greatest joy.

Sunday, I walked home from church, knowing I could only stop by the apartment quickly, because I needed to be somewhere soon.  I wanted to run by the apartment and drop some things off, and as I approached my door I saw nothing but my recycling bin.  As I got closer, I could see lilies in front of my door.  Two Easter lily plants in front of my door! 

My friend Jessie retrieved them from her field ed parish and brought them to me.  My hope for buying them in the first place (honestly) was not to simply place them on the altar, but to bring that altar into my home, and have two Easter lily plants in my home/apartment/whatever as a continual remembrance of my PawPaw and Grandmere.  You see, they grew lilies, and I'll never tire of the smell and sight of lilies, because they're one of the best memories of my childhood.  I would run around in the backyard while my grandfather gardened.  I can still remember lilies being taller than me, and something that I could at least try to hide behind.  I miss my PawPaw dearly.  He is still the greatest man I've ever known.  Grandmere equals in greatest woman I've ever known with my own mother, her daughter, or as she is to me, "Mama."

Now, these lilies sit in my apartment.  Last night, as I couldn't sleep, I would get frustrated and try to slow my breathing into a meditative way, so that maybe it would lull me to sleep.  In the very moment that I sought my own inner peace, I was able to smell the Easter lilies in my home.  My apartment--filled with dirty laundry, all the messiness of a cat, a few dirty dishes, etc-- smelled of nothing other than my PawPaw's garden and both my PawPaw and Grandmere's eternal love. 

With such a vivid recollection of a place that I felt safe, I was able to sleep. 

I can remember my PawPaw and Grandmere who have died with the lilies that continue to live.  Even though a lily dies, lilies themselves do not.  Even though the people we love die, they themselves do not.  When Christ enters the tomb, even though he dies, he does not.  I'm blessed by the shattering of death that brings me new life everyday.  I pray that I can live it in a way that honors my PawPaw, Grandmere, and Mama, while also showing love to others and thus living into the ultimate call I have from God.