Wild Joy
One day just before Easter, 2-year-old Emerald and I went running all over town buying last minute Easter stuff. We saved Walmart for the very end, which of course fell right during the middle of her regular naptime. So, I gave her a Ring Pop as a straight up bribe to keep her inside the basket and slightly less cranky while we shopped-- This went well for quite a while, despite the fact that she was covered in blue drool and I, naturally, had used my very last few wipes about an hour earlier after a poopy diaper incident at the Dollar Store. Luckily, I ran into a good, non-judging friend in Walmart who not only overlooked the blue drool and the fact that my child was eating a Ring Pop, but she also handed me a baby wipe without comment.
As Emerald and I continued shopping, for some reason she decided she was afraid of all of the men in the store. And, in her clear little (loud) 2-year-old voice she began saying so. She pointed to every man we passed and declared, “I skeered dat guy.” So, I spent the rest of the time we were in Walmart saying, “I’m so very sorry. You really don’t look like a scary guy. You seem like a nice person.” And, the entire time I was saying it, she continued to point and repeat over and over, “I skeered dat guy. I skeered dat guy.”
Thankfully, the fellas seemed to take it pretty well, and most laughed and lied about how cute they thought she was because I’m just betting that when a 2-year-old is accusing you of being a bad, scary man, you don’t really think she’s all that cute. Plus, there was the blue drool.
But, all I could really think about during all of the apologizing and the reminders that pointing is rude, was how excited I am about Easter. My cart was filled with Easter goodies, sweet reminders of a sweet day. Easter has always been my favorite holiday (after Christmas, of course). I love the colors; I love the cheeriness, the cuteness and the Easter eggs. But, mostly I love the extremely happy ending to an otherwise devastating story. I love the hope. I love the hero, the rescue, the peace and the eternal everything-is-okay-ness.
It’s a day of wild joy. Not because Peter Cottontail is on his way. But because Jesus Christ has won the day. Death and hell are beaten forever. We don’t have to be “skeered dat” anymore. We have a Savior. We have a victor. And we can trust in who He is and what He did on the very first Easter morning. Oh, what a morning!
Well, Emerald and I made it out of Walmart without offending the entire store, although we put a pretty good dent in the male population. As we put our Easter goodies in the car, I looked at that little blue chin and those sticky baby cheeks, and I laughed. I laughed because I would be bored and lonely without her. And I laughed because I couldn’t wait to see understanding in those gorgeous blue eyes when she grew older and learned more about what Easter means. I laughed because Jesus’ victory is also mine. And hers. And yours.
Wild joy. And a wild baby girl. And a wild trip to Walmart. It all somehow added up to the goodness of God as most things do.
“You made me so happy, God. I saw your work, and I shouted for joy. How magnificent your work, God! How profound your thoughts!” Psalm 92:4-5