I wish I could say that I spent this glorious Easter day all swollen from candy. I wish I could say that I spent all afternoon with belly swollen from a delicious home-cooked meal and sat around a table of people I love. I wish I could say I spent the day with my heart all swollen from the joy of getting to worship with my fellow travelers and seekers. Instead, I spent the day half-blind. In bed. And swollen.
But not from food. It was my right eye, actually. I woke up with an eyelid swelled so big that there was only a little slit left for me to peek out of most of the day. It was so swollen that my right eyebrow was a good 1/2 inch higher than the other so I looked like a normal human on one side of my face, and a surprised bar fighter with a rakish stare on the other. It was so swollen that I could not see to drive to church. Compresses did not help. Crying really did not help. I was crushed.
Sometime this afternoon, my and my lovely eye lump (which I downgraded to a eye muffin top around 5 pm) decided that it was still Easter Sunday. Despite the Reese’s eggs, which I consumed in self-pity, despite the pizza I ate because it was the only thing I had that did not require me to look at a recipe out of one eye (and that had not been ruined by my refrigerator that died on Thursday and cannot be replaced until Tuesday), despite the fact that my pretty Easter dress stayed in my closet unworn, it was still Easter. I like that.
My self-pity, my eye lump, my lack of real food, my comfy yoga pants that became my Sunday outfit…none of it matters in light of Christ. That’s a good thing because if it was left up to me to make this Easter, I would fail. It would be an epic fail, as my students say. A total fail. Easter would have been a chocolate coma awash in self-pity and longing for wine (but good Baptist girls don’t drink on Sunday) with a strong dose of unexplainable eye lump thrown in for good measure.
Thank goodness I’m not in charge. Sunday is not coming. Sunday is HERE. And on this Sunday, I am grateful for the One who loves and saves. Who suffered for my sins. Who died. Who is RISEN. Who makes my heart swell full and big and grateful each and every day.
Easter swellings. Eyes. Hearts. Bellies. Who cares what form it comes? All is gift. Even eye lumps on Easter Sunday.