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Marcia Laycock https://marcialeelaycock.com/thespur/
Last year at Easter time I wrote the following blog post for Inscribe. I decided to post it here, with some updating to keep it relevant for this year.
I’m Going to Need More
“I’m going to need some more,” my granddaughter, Violet said, as she barely chewed through the first chocolate covered peanut butter egg. One little taste and she could barely contain her enjoyment. She couldn’t wait to have more inside of her! Her eyes lit up; her tongue rolled over her lips as she blurted out her desire.
I hadn’t planned to make our traditional homemade Easter candy this year. Everything about celebrating Easter seemed in upheaval, in chaos. One less task to do amid this Covid virus crisis gave me a welcome sigh of relief.
And then my one son casually texted, “we’ve been dreaming of your Easter candy!” Dreaming? I suppose we all have our moments these days in which we conjure up ideas of how to escape the anxiety, fear, pent-up frustrations and general lack of control over this viral disease. A holiday amidst a pandemic brings an overwhelming desire to still have something around us that seems normal, calming, traditional.
I’m not sure what it says about me that my pantry just happened to have all the necessary ingredients. Actually, I do know. I am a make-it-from-scratch cook who likes to have items that will fall easily into recipes. Coconut, chocolate chips, icing sugar, peanut butter—when I use up the last of these, I quickly restock so they can be ready for use the next time.
The one outstanding item, cream cheese, had yet to be found. I scoured my fridge hunting in the far corners. No not there, but happily I discovered and found some in the freezer, probably bought when it was on sale. I now had everything I needed. So, I made chocolate covered peanut butter and coconut cream eggs.
We decided to make a porch visit with little Finn and Violet to deliver the Easter candy to them. Little Finn tried over and over again to back up into our laps so we could read a truck book with him. But he had to settle for a somewhat distanced page-through that soon failed to entertain him.
While the adults visited, the kiddies drew coloured chalk pictures on the sidewalk. We had to cut the time short, so we didn’t unknowingly pass any viral germs between us. Air hugs and kisses sufficed for the time being, but we all achingly knew we wanted more. A taste of a Nana and Pop-Pop visit didn’t seem to be enough. We all wanted more.
I find that is at the heart of this pandemic. We all want more. We want more hope, more patience, more comfort, more normalcy. More scientific facts, more reassurance, more ability to do the right thing for each other. More control.
“I’m going to need some more,” our hearts boldly cry out.
The world needs more help, for the unemployed, the ones already sick, the ones who have died, the ones recovering with long-term effects, for the ones who refuse to acknowledge the seriousness of this pandemic, for essential workers on the frontlines, for everyone coping with the limitations and restrictions that will keep all of us safe.
We all need more; we need to hold on tighter and more firmly to the promises that God remains steadfast and true despite this horrific pandemic. In our moments of ultimate meltdowns, we all need more, we need to be rescued.
As we look towards Good Friday, I grieve in advance, as Mary grieved. She knew Jesus lived on the edge of provocation every day. He either provoked anger amongst the Jewish leaders or provided hope for His worshipping followers. She knew what it meant to submit to God’s will, and she grieved for her son who had to sacrifice everything to fulfill it. She knew and although she marvelled at His healing works, His miracles which led people to trust and believe in Him, she also grieved for the heartache that surely would come. Waking up daily and not knowing if her son would be arrested or celebrated. Following His arrest, she woke up, picturing Him being tortured and mocked. She didn’t know what would happen next, so she grieved even as she prayed with hopeful yearning to the God who had provided and cared for her. She needed more.
She wanted more. She wanted a miracle, but she didn’t know what to expect. She stayed with Jesus and grieved. She stayed with him and asked for more from her God. Let’s not miss the fact that Jesus stayed too, as long as he could, praying, weeping, and asking more from God for us.
Jesus wept. Jesus wept and grieved not for himself, but for us. He needs us.
Christ needs more. He needs more of us. More of our hearts responding to him. He still seeks us; He still sits with us and watches as we try to fill our hearts with what we believe we need. He hears us as we cry, “I think I’m going to need some more.”
We don’t realize he already knows what we need. He knows our “more.” He knows what to offer. His pantry remains fully stocked and ready to respond to any request. He doesn’t need a list to remind himself that he needs to provide more sustenance, more comfort. He knows how to respond.
More comfort. More healing. More hope.
To receive it, we need to give Christ more.
More trust, more faith, more love.
As I look forward to Easter, I often replay a vision of Jesus that comes to mind when I need to reaffirm my hope in Him:
I am on my knees in prayer and in a weeping mess. I am distraught and overwhelmed by all the needs of everyone throughout this pandemic. And then I am lifted up, embraced and held in strong arms. I breathe deeply, I am quieted by a gentleness and peacefulness that flows over and around me. I begin to have a resurgence of clarity, a sense that I am held lovingly and tenderly. And in those arms, in that amazing embrace I know Jesus gives me the some more I need.”
Easter is coming. Jesus is here. He embraces us. Jesus gives us more of what we need even though we often don’t know what to ask for until the time arrives. He knows. He offers. He is here.
Go to His embrace. Trust. Feel His strength. Hope. Breathe deeply His peace. Be Forever Loved.
Do we need more? Amen and amen. Over and over again. Thank goodness He is stocked and ready. Thank goodness He provides the some more we need.
Psalm 103:1-5 NIV
Praise the Lord, my soul, all my inmost being praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, my soul and forget not all his benefits—who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.