It’s an ache and a hope both that I feel. Not either or. I celebrate a risen savior who doesn’t ask me to pump myself up with positive thinking. I am invited to dance with tears streaming down my frame. I am welcome with a heavy spirit and long face. I am not confused or ashamed, nor do I need to explain. A broken heart is an open heart.

I often feel a deep well of sadness at Easter for a myriad of reasons.
If I feel alone, I am in good company . A man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (Isaiah 53:3), is the one who sits beside me in the pew. Invite him into your mess. He will sit with you, too.