It was a good 6 months ago that my 5 year old started asking about Easter eggs. Something about dipping the eggs in that vinegary colored water just speaks to her. I’m not going all deep and analytical on this…I’m thinking that it’s just fun and messy, and that appeals to her in much the same way as mud puddles and glitter glue. (You know, the things that make her OCD mama break out in hives.)
But watching white eggs submerge in dye and come up colored…that makes me want to go allegorical.
‘Cause the more I think about it, the more I have to conclude that there is something profoundly spiritual about coloring Easter eggs. It’s like an object lesson in redemption….backwards. Salvation, then, is like egg dyeing in reverse. Start out stained, come out white. It’s all there in Isaiah 1. Too bad my guilt complex so often short circuits the truth. I miss out on so much, treasuring and hoarding my shortcomings, bathing in a toxic puddle of guilt and self flagellation instead of glorying in pristine white.
I’m done with the whole guilt thing. Done, I say. Sick and tired of forgetting that my sin is remembered no more and that I don’t have to carry the stain of what’s been washed clean. I’ve been dyed white by the blood of Jesus, forever changed. Forever justified. This is the sweet hope of Easter.
The truth that stains our souls with glorious grace is the Paschal fire that brings us back, always, to the cross.
Jesus. Oh, sweet Jesus. His name means “Rescuer”, and He does. As many times as it takes.
Rest in Him, beloved of God.
And pray for me. We’re about to get out the eggs, the food coloring, and the vinegar. Mercy.