A Different Kind of Easter

   Every year at Easter, my family does the exact same thing. Same people, same places, same traditions. Which I absolutely love. However, this year I'm in Haiti, so my Easter has looked a lot different than in times past.
   On Friday, we went to the Good Friday service at church. We sang, we took communion, and one of the Bible college teachers preached. It was a simple service, but meaningful, and I really enjoyed it.
   Saturday afternoon, Megan's Bible study ladies came over to watch the Passion of the Christ. We had homemade pizza, cookies, and cokes and sprites. After we ate and chatted for a bit, we started the movie. None of the ladies had seen it before, and I'd only seen it once. I'd forgotten how hard it is to watch.
   It's so easy to say "Jesus died on a cross." without giving much thought to what that entails. Death on a cross was the most painful, humiliating, and cruel death a human being could face. Few deserved such a fate, least of all Jesus Christ. He was completely innocent and without sin. Yet He chose to take all of the sins of the world upon Himself and die a horrible death in our place, so that we could live eternally with Him. He did this even while we were still sinners! But it's easy to say even that. To watch it, or at least watch what that might have looked like, puts it all in perspective.
   Even though I still speak very little creole, I could understand that the women were talking about what was happening through most of the film. During the worst moments, it would get nearly silent, but I could still hear them say "Mesi, Jezi!' "Thank you, Jesus!" And then I heard one woman whisper "Pour mwen?" "For me?" She said it quietly, almost in disbelief, and choking back tears.
   For me? Why on earth would Jesus go through that for me? It's a question I don't ask myself often enough. The easy Sunday school answer is "Because He loves me." But why? Why would He do that? Why does He love us? And perhaps most importantly, why don't we realize how amazing that is?
   These women, who don't even speak English, had convicted me beyond measure. Why am I not in awe of the cross? Why am I not continually, in every moment, overwhelmed with gratitude? Why do I reduce the death and resurrection of my Savior to a story in my Bible? Wanting to get more perspective, I spent some time that night praying and reading Isaiah 53 and Romans 5. They were familiar passages, but I read them with a new appreciation. Yet again, I became amazed at the greatness of our God. At how marvelous and how wonderful my Savior's love is.
   Why had this not bothered me before? Why had I let so many previous Easters slip by without really stopping to think about what Christ did? Maybe it's because holidays are crazy. In the hustle and bustle of getting from one family gathering to another, in the Walmart aisles full of candy and stuffed rabbits, it's easy to lose track of what Easter is actually about. That's not to say that family dinners and chocolate are bad, I love my family's traditions, and my parents even sent me some candy (I got a Reese's egg. My parents rock!). However, I think that being away from all of that this year helped me to turn my focus back where it belongs: on a bloody cross, an empty tomb, and an amazing love.