Sunday we celebrated Easter. Christian and I preformed a reading to open up the service where I declared boldly and loudly that JESUS IS RISEN. I believe that. I do. I believe that death has been defeated and that the tomb was empty.

I believe in Resurrection. But I am aching for Easter. I am aching for marriages and brokenness and old wounds that are still. not. healed. I am aching for promises not fulfilled, and injustice running rampant. I am aching for myself, but also for a world, groaning under the reality that is, but was never supposed to be.

I am longing for just so much resurrection.

I am aching for wholeness and completion. I am believing in Easter, but I am aware that it doesn’t feel like that very often. Y’all, we live in a Saturday world. Sometimes Sunday breaks through, but so often it feels like Saturday.

I have witnessed miracles. In relationships, in circumstances, heck in my own body God has left signs of the resurrection. I believe that miracles happen. I believe that there is good in this world. I believe that Love Wins.

But I don’t always understand why Love can’t win right now. I think NOW is a good time for love to win, for death to die, for all oppression to cease. I think yesterday would be better. This waiting thing. This junk is hard.  It is hard being a Sunday person in a Saturday world.

I am currently finding my life hard on the both large and small scale. I am broken for and with friends, I am still uncertain about my future, I have a lot of laundry to fold.

Yesterday, with no future plans in hand, I rejected my contract for teaching next year. And on the way home from the dog park, Lucky puked all over the car. Twice. Surely these are both signs of my need for Easter. I still don’t have words for the travesty that is the Flint water crisis. Lord have Mercy. We are in desperate need of a miracle.

I have the Easter ache.