When Easter Hope Is A Handlebar


One day I looked out my window and saw a handlebar peeking out above the deep snow just under my window. And my first thought was “Easter”. My second thought was “Hope”. But Easter had already come and gone, and the snow had come late and had stayed. And the only hope of it all melting soon was the sight of that persistent handlebar.

Until that happy day I’d had to imagine that handlebar beneath the snow and the ATV attached to it, still sitting where I parked it when the autumn days had grown windy and wet — and the darkness of winter had followed. And in the worst winter ever, my powerful motorized toy had soon entirely disappeared under a deep bank of snow. And unless you had parked it there yourself, you wouldn’t have had a clue that it was even there.

But now there was new hope for a ride on the beach, and new enthusiasm for the days ahead. And I even considered doing some digging to hurry the process along, before deciding to let nature take its course.

But what about Easter? And why did my discovery turn my thoughts to that day already come and gone? And what’s the connection, anyway, between my emerging ATV and a holiday filled with eggs and bunnies? Not much, I’m afraid, unless we are aware of the meaning of this day.

Easter is about knowing there is hope, even when it’s buried beneath life’s struggles and concerns. Easter faith is about believing that some things we can’t see with our eyes are still here and real, and waiting to be revealed to us. Easter is about the hope of overpowering the powers of darkness in our lives. And it’s about New Life bursting forth — like my ATV emerging from beneath the snow with the promise of spring and beach combing.

But Easter faith isn’t just a one-day experience, like a handlebar appearing from the snow one day and then covered up the next by yet a new snowstorm. It can be a daily celebration of New Life and Hope emerging from the darkness, manifested both in this life and beyond.