Of Hope and Eggs

taken by kristin njimegni

I love that Easter is celebrated in our spring. New life, new beginnings, green bursting up all around and we breath deep sighs of relief and we see the end of winter finally in view. We have made it through the dark, cold nights and into the light.

We can and will make it through the valleys and into the light.

I especially love Easter now that the good man and I have started having our families over to celebrate together. We didn't grow up in the same town, or in the same church. I think our parents met once before our wedding weekend! And our families are small. I have two siblings to his one. I lived states away from my grandparents and all of them have passed. I still mourn their loss especially now that we are finally nearing the end of our first adoption process. They would have L O V E D our little ones.

One of my deepest desires for my children, for me too, is to know our family. To be surrounded by all the branches of the family tree. And having small family units like we do, it was so important for me to bring them all together at least once a year to break bread, laugh, play, chat, and enjoy each other's company.

And we are blessed, so incredibly blessed, to truly celebrate this amazing day and what it means for our lives and eternity, the hope that we treasure, with our families, who also share in that hope. A small portion of the Kingdom of Heaven meeting together here on earth.

We celebrate the life, death, and resurrection of our Jesus, God who humbled himself into human form and died so that we might live eternally.

Two things before we dive in. 1. I owe credit for most of the photos to Bean, who was the designated photographer as I was slaving away in the kitchen. 2. I love my dad, for many reasons, one is that he washed our dishes. Thanks Pops. 

taken by kristin njimegni

I have heard this story over and over throughout my life and a few things never cease to stick out.

He gave thanks.

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, 

gave thanks, 

and broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, 

"Take and eat; this is my body." (Matt. 26:26)

 

taken by kristin njimegni

He sat with friends, family really. He broke bread. He gave thanks. The Son of God, who knew what was coming, the pain that was waiting, the death He would endure, paused to give thanks. Thanks. "Thanks Father for this life I have been given, for what is happening now in this room, for what will happen tomorrow"? Was his stomach in knots? Was he working to muster joy and peace and gratitude? The Son of God who was fully God AND fully man - I love Him so for that, being the weary human - actively, willingly, sincerely gave thanks. Actively, willingly, sincerely taking the cup.

If He can give thanks in the hours before His death, knowing full well that which had to be done, trusting completely in the plan set before him, why can't I give thanks in the middle of and for the simple, ordinary, messy, stresses of life?

If He can take the cup, and give thanks, certainly I can also, if only for what He accomplished in the hours to come...

Jesus was betrayed by one who had been by his side during ministry, a good friend; arrested, brutally beaten, paraded around to be insulted by community members, crucified on a tree. You are perhaps familiar with the story. But the part that has always stuck with me, the part that even after hearing it a thousand times I still shed puddles of tears, is this:

When he had received the drink, 

Jesus said, “It is finished.” 

With that, he bowed his head 

and gave up his spirit. (John 19:30)

It. Is. Finished.

Three amazing simple words that give so much hope, so much life. The victory is ours for the taking because he sacrificed himself so we might live. And it never gets old, this hope.

And not just that, but that he lives! He did not stay dead, the story does not end in death, but life!

What if I gave thanks for the unexpected, the unwanted, the painful, the terrifying...because even in the midst of fear He is good, He is perfect, He has already won?

It is finished. We have the victory. Let's tread carefully here: not all moments feel like a victory. Not all moments have us cheering and leaping. Some moments are just plain hard, break us down, and tear us apart. And life is not easy. But there is so much hope to be gained when we give thanks even in the worst moments, give thanks even when we don't feel like it, when we claim this truth for ourselves. Because we believe He IS good. We may not understand the whys and the hows, but we can know He is good. And it is finished. No matter what this life and this earth throw at us, we, who are found in Him, it is not in vain and He has the last say.

taken by kristin njimegni

taken by kristin njimegni

taken by kristin njimegni

I stood in our kitchen surrounded by family, believers, and was reminded that the Kingdom is real and here. I shed some tears. Joyful tears. No matter what happens in this short simple life - infertility, failed adoption, financial troubles, death, loss, whatever - it is finished. The battle is won. We have the victory through Christ. Jesus Christ who shed blood and died for us that we might have life everlasting. Grace poured out. And hope spread wide. And we gather close together on Easter to celebrate what is, what will be, what was done for us.

I stood in that kitchen with eggs boiling and family mingling. I surrendered again and was filled with joy for the hope that He gives. It may not be my plan, this extended waiting, but for whatever reason it is His plan and He is good. So I will trust. And in the end the only thing I count as gain is eternity with Him. Oh, what hope.

To celebrate together this second birth, new life, we have been given…I do not have the words. Beautiful broken, imperfect people breaking bread to give thanks, sharing the journey, taking the path he has given. We aren't perfect. It isn't always pretty. But we are family in more ways than biology, marriage, and adoption.

Actually, yes, through marriage and adoption! Christ's bridegroom, we are adopted into the family.

How wonderful a thought.

taken by kristin njimgeni