Too Big to Get Old

For the first time ever, I'm actually excited to be a father someday.

I once had a fear that I would eventually run out of things to learn about God. My late-teens persona thought to himself "by the time I'm, I don't know, 30, I'll probably have read the Bible and thought about God enough that I won't have anything else to learn." This was deeply troubling, as I didn't very much like the idea of my relationship with God hitting a proverbial brick wall. What happens then? Do I just simply wait for Jesus to come back? How tragically boring.

This fear was only compounded on occasions such as the one we celebrate this weekend, Easter. Join with me, friends, in solidarity at having heard the same Easter message over and over again. I haven't even been truly following the Lord all that long, and the messages already seem to run into each other.

Something feels fundamentally wrong about the idea of running out of things to think about God, especially around Easter. We're talking about someone, the best someone no less, being raised from the dead so that death might be conquered once and for all. This my sound like weird churchy language. Essentially, because of what Jesus did, we can choose to embrace a hope, a life which extends beyond anything we can experience here. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense because it is more beautiful than we can currently comprehend. This smacks of the sort of thing about which the well of reflection should never run dry. There should always be more thoughts to be thought on this subject Yet, here I am, feeling the imminent threat of a boring conceptualization of Easter.

How delighted I am, then, to be proven wrong.

At a recent devotional time in my house, my fellow Homemen (men who live in the Home, for those unaware) and I were sharing different reflections on Easter. One brother shared about how, for his father, it was having a son that changed everything. As my friend attended his first Easter ever, his father held him. As the teacher began to speak on God giving up His only Son so that we might be free, this particular father looked down at his own son, and realized on some level just how great a sacrifice God had made. On that day Easter was forever changed for this man.

In my current life setting, this reflection makes very little sense to me (largely based on my distinct lack of children). Nonetheless, I am incredibly excited for when this will finally make sense. I am excited for the day when I will be able to look down at my own son and think "Wow God, I don't know how you gave yours up, but thank you that you would make that sacrifice for me."

All this to say that this Easter I look forward with newfound hope. My life in God is ever changing. If I have learned anything from watching those who have gone before me in service to the Lord, it is that God seems to be quite good at keeping up with those changes. As I look towards tomorrow, I know God will teach me something new, an exciting aspect of His resurrection that I have never known previously. I choose to believe that all my Easters to come will be bring more of the same. I choose to let God not be boring. I hope that this Easter you would do the same.

With His love and grace,

Taylor