It’s Easter weekend – but you already knew that.
In past years blogging, I’ve made a big deal about this holiday – my favorite holiday, that is – and written posts, and tweets, and I’ve jumped up and down over what Easter means to me.
This year’s a little different.
Not because I’m not excited, no. I’m thrilled. But Easter means something a little different to me this year, something a little deeper, something I hold a little tighter to my heart than in years past.
This day means everything to me, and it’s difficult to find the words to describe it well.
This year, I’ve gotten significantly more into art, into creating, and I’m practicing over and over the act of embracing grace – truly accepting the rest that Christ offers. In a sense, I’m living the art of faith, as well as creating the tangible art that impacts the world in a visible way.
What I love about art is this: Art has the ability to communicate meaning and purpose that goes far beyond what words alone can express.
Every artist of any kind must ask themselves, “Why am I doing this? What am I trying to say? What kind of impact do I want to have?” because that’s what art does to us: it impacts, motivates, and inspires us.
In a world so lacking in hope, dry and broken, fearful and desperate – we cannot forget the Good News that it craves, the Gospel that we have the opportunity and blessing to share with the world.
And as I’ve been writing less, though more thoughtfully, and creating more with intention and purpose, I’m always brought back to this point that I hold so tenderly: I create because I am so breathlessly overwhelmed with what Christ has done for me.
A while back, I made a conscientious decision that I didn’t want to write just for the sake of writing. Because anyone can write – but not all writing is worth reading, in part because of a lack of intention.
I want my words to mean something. And this year, that’s meaning less blog posts on Scattered Journal Pages, because, quite frankly, I have less to say, and I don’t want to just fill space on the internet with senseless chatter.
So, in a very roundabout way, Easter represents to me my purpose. Christ died to give me new life, and rose to give me assurance of it. In turn, I want everything in my life now to be done with Him in mind, and the magnitude of what He did for me at the forefront.
Easter means the world to me because Christ’s resurrection means rest. It means rest from my imperfect attempts, rest to come to Him and accept His adequacy for me.
Easter means grace. The grace that covers the sin in my past, the struggles of now, and the mess-ups that are to come.
It means hope. The assurance that I’m never alone in what I’m facing, and that my story isn’t over until it’s over and I’m living in eternity with my Lord.
It means purpose. That I have a reason to live, to do what I love to do, and not simply for the sake of doing it, but because I feel the distinct calling and passion to do so.
Easter means a lot of things.
And in a desperate world, the light of Christ shines so brightly, calling out to each of us, “Salvation is here. All you must do is receive it.”
And when I think of this, I’m so in awe. I don’t deserve this love, this acceptance, this freedom, or hope.
It’s a free gift. It’s mine. And I don’t want to keep it to myself.
In my overwhelmed state, of gratitude, and wonder, and hope, all I want to do is share it.
I want my art – my writing, and music, and painting, and speaking, and loving, and being – I want it to inspire hope for the hopeless, reveal rest for the weary, love for the broken, strength for the weak, grace for the sinners.
The world needs Jesus. It longs for restoration, goodness, and hope – even though it doesn’t know that the only true hope is found in Him.
So as we create with our hands, our minds, and our souls, let us do it for Him.
Let our art be a reflection of truth – His truth.
May it show His love, His compassion, and goodness.
For Christ is the One that gave Himself for us, and the only one in this world who satisfies.
Happy Easter, friends. May we never forget His sacrifice, His love, and the life He gave us when He arose.