Up from the grave He arose, with a mighty triumph o'er His foes, He arose a victor from the dark domain, and He lives forever with His saints to reign, He arose, He arose, Hallelujah! Christ arose!
A well known hymn, to the point that I feel sure many of you reading this sang along with me in your mind as you read the words.
A victory hymn. A victory march. A victory dance with military precision. A proclamation of the ultimate win.
A shout-it-from-the-rooftops song.
So, why don't we?
Oh, we do, in churches all over the world on Easter Sunday - a proclamation from the pulpit of: "He is risen!" followed by our response: "He is risen indeed!" And we proclaim it joyfully, because we celebrate that He is alive with His Father in heaven, with us through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, and for us as He came to save us in the greatest sacrifice ever, sacrificing Himself in death so that we can live.
But then the Easter church service ends.
We go back to our daily lives where it's so easy to slip right back into how it's all about our stuff: our needs, our wants, our people, our things, our stress, our fears, our injustices... what we deserve, what we don't have that we should have, what we think we need.
And suddenly, yet not suddenly at all, we are being pulled far from what we know to be right, because we allowed a wave to slip in quietly and gently lap at our toes, and a quiet nudge to "come on in the water's fine" leads to drifting, faster and faster, away from where we should be.
Focus shifts away from God when we listen to lies of the enemy. He's really not very creative. He doesn't need to be, because he knows how easily we tend to fall for his continual manipulation and deceptive games.
I fail, over and over and over. And God waits for me to be pliable before Him again as I confess and ask for the forgiveness He always gives. He guides me to change direction and return to His loving arms.
Until the next time.
But gradually, if I choose to focus on Him and strive to keep my eyes UP, the waves won't be so inviting anymore, and I find myself looking down less and less, and UP more and more. It's a process called sanctification. For me, the process moves forward and backward, but God is oh, so patient and I know His love never ends.
Processes are tough, especially in a world where we see so much instant gratification that we expect it.
Yet, we can choose to look at it this way: Jesus went through a violently brutal, crushing, agonizing process for us. His suffering, His death, for our lives.
But then... His resurrection, for our ongoing, incredible opportunity for a direct relationship with God, who can shower us with His love and grace and look upon us as His beloved children.
Praise God, He made a way.
And we should shout it from the rooftops, this love that knows no bounds!
UP from the grave He arose!
He is risen! He is risen indeed!
