I did not think I was going to make it through Easter this time. I felt Holy Saturday and my mourning was pouring all over the celebration. I went to church and left my shroud in the car.
And they played this song and my soul was lifted.
Push play. Right now. Do it.
My Easter was beautiful. The sermon was just what I needed to hear. Our dyed eggs lined up together on our cut out circle box. My husband held me up and my children made me laugh. I saw a pink feather float up from a sweet baby girl’s tutu. I heard my children call out for their cousins as if they had just arrived from across the world. We broke bread and played with friends and family. I fell asleep with Up On A Mountain playing in my head and I knew I was not alone.
I heard it in the song. I saw my story in His and in hers.
I know that these Easter posts have been very revealing. I also know that in the world of abuse, revealing is the way of escaping the silence. It’s a way of affirming that I am alive, survived and not afraid. Even if that is only half way true some of the time. I also know that she is reading this. I know that she understands. I know that she needs me and I need her.
We are not alone.
It was a Happy Easter.