It's Easter

I have lots of Easter stories. When you grow up a preacher's kid, Easter's a pretty big day. Sunrise services, both as a kid and as a pastor - to times when I was far from God and needing to find my way back home, Easter and the cross have been a hinge point, not only in history, but in my personal life as well.

There was the season I was living on the Atlantic coast of France, surfing. We left the water mid-day to see what the celebration was all about. People were everywhere from what was then the sleepy town of Biarritz down to St. Jean De Luz: bells were ringing, it seemed like we were missing out on a great party. Still dripping ocean, clad in a wetsuit, board under my arm, I stopped an old man and asked him "What's going on? Why all the activity?" Looking at me as if I was from another planet, he responded with a huge smile, one arm waving in the air, "It's Easter. Christ is Risen!"

I hadn't even known it was Sunday.

Saturday, "fine tuning" my Easter message – life times away from that lost young man who didn’t know what day it was - I heard a familiar voice in the next room: my father's. Not his post stroke voice, but clear, confident and at his best, telling his story of salvation. Pastor Ken, who I've worked with at Central Community for most of our years in ministry, was clearing through some old video and had come across this one from several years ago. I had been preaching on salvation and had asked a few people to share their stories as part of the message - including dad. The video's now a priceless keepsake, the moment , when my heart caught in my throat, tears welled up in my eyes, well before I walked into the other room to look at the screen, a favorite Easter memory.

Ken and my dad have been close for decades. They love each other. When Ken was an aspiring pastor and college student, dad was his pastor. Ken’s younger sister Leta, now with the Lord, had spent time as dad’s secretary. Ken and his brother Gene used to sing in church together with dad. They have a bunch of shared memories, even some Easter memories, some I share and at least one when I was out in the world and didn’t know it was Easter. Once, when dad was sick and in the hospital, he held my hand, (I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this), spoke quietly and said “Don’t ever lose Ken- he’s a gift, he’s such a big part of your work.” Truer words were never spoken.

Our family has this Easter memory of dad because Ken saved it and brought it out just when we needed it. Thanks Ken.

Dad’s testimony is worthy of your time: whether you’ve ever met him or not. At his core, he’s the son of a working man, a coal miner. Even at 92 years old, that’s important to him. Even more, he’s a child of God and his words carry weight. They touched my heart this morning as I prepared for our Easter services: I hope they touch yours as well. What a great Easter memory.