Maybe Easter Morning

I carry a picture in my mind
of a happy family.

A family that passes steaming bowls of mashed potatoes around a big wooden table,
breaks into spontaneous games of football on any given fall afternoon (always having enough people for two full teams), and has two, dignified, parents clad in modest, matching, pajamas, sitting up in their double bed at night, wisely solving all the day's problems.

Yes, they ARE the descendants of the Waltons, Ingalls, and Bradfords.

Truthfully, I've never known a family like this.
I think there are a few that come close--judging by their blog posts and facebook status's--but, I've never actually been to their homes.

And if they invited me over...
it would be awkward.

The families I know, have been tossed and turned by divorce, addictions, abuse, absent parents, abandonment, rejection, financial irresponsibility, illness, depression, despair, and just plain old-fashioned selfishness and immaturity.

The families I know, secretly dread the holidays.
They know every occasion of celebration, is an occasion to pull out that well-worn picture they've been clutching for years, dust it off, measure themselves against it,

and once again,
determine they are lacking.

As for my family?
I didn't cook Christmas dinner last year.
We celebrated together,my 3 children and I, 2 weeks later, at 1 am.
The night my oldest son was released from jail.

As for my family?
When we're done with Easter dinner this year,
I'll skip dessert, and go visit my youngest son,
at the Juvenile Detention Center.

But...

Maybe, Easter Morning,

I'll pull out that tattered picture,
and place it at the foot of the cross.

and Maybe, Easter Morning,

I'll take my eyes off of that picture,
and place them on Jesus.

and Maybe, Easter Morning,

I'll leave that picture in His hands.
and turn to face my children.

and Maybe, Easter Morning,

I'll look into my children's eyes,
and paint a new picture.

Comments

[Kathy Guy]

Beautiful. Thank you.