The Spirit of Easter (by Diane Gallagher)

Happy Easter! It's guest blogger Wednesday :)

"And the winner of the 'Spirit of Easter' Award goes to ... Lily!"  My two year old was happily twirling around in our kitchen, singing a song and munching on her chocolate bunny sucker.  It was Easter morning, bright and early, and my husband decided that he is going to pronounce a winner of the spirit of Easter and spirit of Christmas on these holy days to affirm the child who best exhibits the meaning of the day.  While one of my sons was pouting because his basket was too hard to find and the goods inside were not to his liking (only a measly Game Stop gift card, premier chocolates from our favorite local candy store, an angry birds t-shirt and "Adventure in Odyssey" book  -- I  was challenged by my husband for being too generous.  I just was not pleasing anyone!), and one of my daughters was in full melt down over a fashion battle, we were struck by my two year old's simple gratitude. In fact, she would have been happy with her pop rocks and chocolate cross. 

She even threw aside her Hello Kitty sunglasses and Veggie Tales puzzle  What's more, she then proceeded to share her treats with Jim and I because we did not have baskets.  "Do you want a bean or chocolate, Mommy?"  Gratefulness.  Generosity. Or, in her own words when Jim asked her what she thought the Spirit of Easter meant, "love."  A lesson from a two year old.  I so desire to have a more grateful heart, a more generous spirit.  How often is God showering blessings upon me? Instead of standing in the middle of a rain  "shower," throwing my arms wide open and letting myself be soaked, I too often run for cover in the nearest building and then complain about how hot it is.

God is constantly giving me things and answering prayers.  It might not always be the things I want or the answers I am seeking, but it is what is best.  I pray that in this Easter season, 50 days of celebrating the Risen Christ, I can pay more attention to the gifts God has given me instead of dwelling on the "unanswered" prayers or requests.  Maybe next year  my husband can proclaim me to be the winner of the Spirit of Easter Award ... but only if I can learn to be grateful for the chocolate sucker instead of  wishing I had a  three pound solid bunny.

Living It:  For the 50 Days of Easter, keep a gratitude journal and write down three things you are thankful for each night.  I am going to do this too.  My Spiritual Director recommended it a while ago, and I have procrastinated long enough:)

Holy Week Reflection (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday :)  

 Though fearful of seeming over dramatic, I must admit that my initial thoughts as I prayed about Holy Week were that, as a mother of seven children, I could relate to the suffering, abandonment and humility that Jesus underwent in the passion.  I almost feel blasphemous even putting those words on paper, as I do not mean to say my pain equals Christ's; however, as I am lying here in my bed, my husband having been out of town these past four days, a fly on the wall could certainly have heard me muttering such words as "slave", "beaten," "shame," and "abandoned" at various moments throughout my day. While I may have good reason to feel this way, if I allow myself to stay focused on these negative and ultimately depressing thoughts, my daily existence will become stuck in the passion. 

The challenge is to not just imitate Christ by accepting my crosses, but moving forward with them so I can reach the Resurrection. Yes, heaven is where we will experience our final resurrection, but there are many resurrection moments here on earth IF we allow ourselves to see them.

 A friend of mine once shared how he was walking across campus on a  frigid winter morn, and he began to feel as though icicles were forming on his fingertips. Instead of dwelling on this developing case of frostbite, he started thanking God for giving him a nose, fingers, and toes.  That's turning a crucifixion moment into a resurrection one.  This is not one of my strengths.  I have a much easier time being annoyed and angry than finding joy in the little things.  But I refuse to be content with my vices.  The next time my 10 yr. old son shoots his 9 yr old brother in the face with his Nerf gun because "we made a bet and I won", I need to thank the Lord that I have boys who love to play with each other and have lots of energy.  I need to remind myself over and over that all these little daily crosses will lead me closer to Jesus.... if I allow them to do so.

A couple Gallagher family traditions from Holy Week:

We love watching the end of "Jesus of Nazareth" (actually, the whole movie is fantastic.. brings the story of Jesus to life in a very real and effective way) on Good Friday.  It's not as violent as "The Passion" so it is appropriate to watch with the family, but it is still powerful.

 My husband takes the older kids to Church on Holy Saturday morning to help decorate and have some food blessed (love that polish sausage). They prepare the candles, etc. for the Easter Vigil which allows them to take some ownership for the special liturgy.  After the Vigil on Saturday night, we come home and enjoy a sundae bar... a tasty way to celebrate the Resurrection.

And one of our cheesier traditions:  on Easter morning before we look for baskets and eggs, we listen to Keith Green's "The Easter Song"... an uplifting, albeit dated, start to a joyful day:)

Tell us about your favorite Holy Week and Easter traditions!

All Will Be Well

“All will be well. All will be well” … the song plays to me from memory…

This past Good Friday we celebrated the second birthday of our seventh child. This child, our son John Michael, was born with a genetic disorder affecting the 18th chromosome (Trisomy 18). Though this condition proved fatal, we were so very blessed to be able to cuddle and sing to our sweet baby boy for two miraculous days of life . I’ve been in the process of writing a book about this experience. I try to quiet my mind so that I can go back in time and write from memory. Sometimes this process is excruciatingly painful… always, it is healing.

Shortly after my son’s death, a friend gave me a CD with various meditative songs. These songs were composed to help people experience Christ as they sit in adoration of Him. I clearly recall those days of heavy sadness as I lay there with empty arms so hungry for my baby. I was heartbroken without his soft fuzzy hair to bury my nose in. My tears would flow without ceasing as I would listen to this music over and over. The one song that I clung to repeated the words, “All will be well…all will be well”. Those words stirred my faith to believe that I would one day have the strength to smile again. Those words enabled me to pull through the darkness that I’m sure would be similar to the loss and immense grief the apostles must have felt during that second day Christ lay in the tomb.

On Good Friday. My husband, sister, and I stood by our little boy’s grave singing Happy Birthday as our tears mingled with the pouring rain. It seemed the whole world was crying. Next came Holy Saturday… I still missed my son. Jesus still would have been in the grave. And then came Resurrection Sunday. This year we celebrated the second anniversary of John Michael’s death on Easter.

I had originally felt the timing was backwards. Good Friday seemed a better fit for the sadness of John Michael’s death. And the Joy of Easter seemed a better time to remember the elation of his being born alive as we relished his every breath. Yet, God revealed His perfect timing to me as I sat in the solemn church on Good Friday and thought of the sadness Blessed Mother must have felt at her Son’s death. I realized that both she and I knew our sons were born to die. I had learned that Trisomy 18 is a condition that occurs during conception. John Michael was conceived with this disorder that doctors had termed “incompatible with life”…(more on that another day!) We knew he would not have long with us yet we were certain he was here to share God’s love with all who learned of him. And though the connection of our son’s death with Easter may have been very clear to others it was slow to dawn on me. I now know that this Easter Sunday, we not only can remember the sadness of John Michael’s tiny body falling prey to the sting of death but we can also celebrate his soul’s rising to God’s presence.

Thank You Father for the gift of my son. Thank You Father for the gift of YOUR Son. Because of Your Son’s death and resurrection, John Michael can rest in Your arms and I can rest assured, knowing that “ALL WILL BE WELL”.