Forgetting Easter

The gay marriage debate and North Korean threats chose the last week they deserved to occur. As a consequence, I spent the week forgetting my Savior to defend my church and my stance. I forgot my Savior to cry doomsday about North Korea. I forgot my Savior by choosing to worry myself into paralysis about things I cannot control.

I forgot him, even though he never forgets me.

He could live for five trillion more eternities without forgetting my name and my concerns and my disabilities. He could be on the opposite end of the universe and not forget my little home in a little town in a little valley in a little state in a huge nation in a huge ocean in a huge world in an endless galaxy. He remembers who I am better than I remember who I am, and yet, I struggle to remember him when I most need to.

We distract ourselves from him, even though he never distracts himself from us.

I remember getting an Easter basket of goodies once in my entire life. After that, my parents felt it best to stop, and it’s one of the greatest blessings of my life. When people ask if I have plans for Easter, I tell them that it will be with family. When I see rabbits and bunnies and big bows and new dresses and toy commercials, I get sick to my stomach. Have we taken the time to realize what this holiday has become? That’s just it: a holiday, a break, a chance to get gifts.

We choose to forget him every day, and now we’ve chosen to forget him on the day we chose to celebrate how he remembered us specifically, personally, individually.

I hate commercialized Easter more than I hate most things. But do you know what I love? Jesus Christ.

I know he lives and he died, all because he cared for imperfect people like me who could give him nothing in return for what he’d give them. I know he loves us infinitely and has infinite empathy. In any moment, corner, and situation in the world, he remembers each of his children and how they feel. I worry, for example, about my future all the time, and he knows that. He asks that we be not dismayed, because he is with us and he can strengthen us, even when nothing else in the world can. When he said, “Bring me your children, your little ones,” he meant us, because we are and will always be that to him. Children, little ones, imperfect humans who make so many mistakes and worry so much about so many different things. My Savior and your Savior knows you and loves you. That’s what Easter is. Remembrance.

Don’t have a happy Easter. Have a reflective one. That’s what we all should have.

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