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Alia Joy

a student of grace, seeking wonder, becoming fluent in the language of hope

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Peace and Hope on this Beautiful Tragic Easter

March 27, 2016 By Alia Joy

 

I wrote this status update on my Facebook page this morning but I thought I’d share it here too for those of you who don’t follow me there. I didn’t plan to blog today and these are just some random thoughts for those living in the tension of today and everyday.

I missed church this Easter morning because my back is still a mess and there’s no way I could sit for that long. My family went on without me. Later, Josh will help me to the car and I’ll see if I can tolerate the 5 minute drive over to my brother’s house where we’ll have lunch with some old friends and let all the kids run around, while I sit propped up on pillows and a heating pad. Josh will make my plate and serve me, my kids will bring me water. I’ll be sort of helpless the way it’s been for the past few days and sometimes I fear, a huge part of my life so far.

I’ve asked God not once or twice but so often it sort of tumbles off my lips throughout my days to heal me. In all the ways I need healing and there are many. I’ve bargained with God as if I had some chips in the game, that I would be obedient and do the things He’s called me to if I could be made well. The answer so far remains the same. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

And so even though I miss being in church and worshiping with my family, I know that there is grace for this too. There is a power that indwells the weakest flesh, power strong enough to wake the dead and call forth life, leaving tombs empty. He is the reclaimer of dead souls, the breath of life, the promise of an end to the devastation of sin and death.

I think of my father who died and believe he is alive, risen, with Christ. Easter means something new with those lost to us. And yet, at his end, the suffering was almost too much for any of us to bear.

I watched the news out of Pakistan. More dead. Another bombing. And I scroll through Instagram and see all the children in their Sunday best with huge smiles. I heart them in their dresses and bow ties, with their chocolate eggs and baskets. And I want to weep and I want to celebrate. And I believe even still, we must do both. Jesus made space for both. It is in our weakness we most see God’s grace, and it is in our joy, we feel the hope of heaven.

The Easter people must look at the broken world and weep with those who weep and yet hope in the everlasting God, and that tension is so hard. But we must.

Peace and Hope to you on this beautiful tragic Easter Sunday.

And here are some thoughts I shared on Good Friday. Again, from my bed. Maybe it will bring you some comfort to know the God of Solidarity.

So I decided to film a little video about my Good Friday thoughts. I’ve never really filmed myself and I’ll probably rethink this when the meds wear off but I wanted to share. Pardon my unshowered, unedited, rambling self. I hurt and maybe you do too. If so, this is for you.

Posted by Alia Joy- Writer on Friday, March 25, 2016

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Filed Under: Suffering Tagged With: Church, Faith

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Comments

  1. Denise Lilly says

    March 27, 2016 at 5:29 pm

    Beautiful post!

    • Alia Joy says

      April 4, 2016 at 7:11 am

      Thank you!

  2. Michele Morin says

    March 28, 2016 at 5:22 am

    Easter does seem to be an especially good time for holding the beauty and the tragedy together in our hearts and knowing that God is there – in both. So sorry to hear about your back. Very frustrating. May God bring healing soon, and peace now.

    • Alia Joy says

      April 4, 2016 at 8:01 am

      Thanks Michele, I’m doing much better and am up and around again in so many ways.

  3. Linda Stoll says

    March 28, 2016 at 10:25 am

    praying you through …

    • Alia Joy says

      April 4, 2016 at 8:02 am

      Thank you! I’m up and around again. Taking it easy but not in pain anymore.

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Welcome

Hi, I’m Alia Joy

INFJ and Enneagram 4w5…so it’s complicated. Wife and mom, coffee-dependent, grace saved, cynical idealist learning fluency in her native tongue, the language of hope. My pen is my weapon of choice to fight off the darkness when depression looms, it is my compass for navigating my messy mind, my even messier heart. Writing is my wilderness and my home. I write the reminders to find my way back to the heart of God. I write to feel God’s pleasure.

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