Someday I want to write so much more to this, to unravel it so much "better", to process and edit and write it in a way that speaks truth, conviction, earnest, and poetry all in a way that blends and reads well, while gracefully or painfully removing the scales Satan so sneakily pulls over our eyes...
Overarching, the premises is regarding the now-tradition for families to take Easter photos of themselves, all prettied up and dressed up, either at home or now in front of beautifully decorated scenes of crosses and flowers at church, perfectly made for selfies or portraits. Because that is the main part of Easter morning, picking the picture dresses and shoes and bowties, and creating the right scene to show you were either all together, or all at a church... But let the sharp of the arrow be somewhat dinged, for I myself have also done this the past 3 years, and only this year given it more thought....
Instead of look to Jesus,
Look at me.
Instead of seeing his glory,
See my well-dressed family.
Instead of seeing my sin and failures,
see my perfect life.
Instead of bloody angst flowing down,
See the pinterest-pretty cross.
Instead of Christ holy, sanctified,
Satan sneaks a selfie: look at me.
Instead of Easter's Resurrection
Look at me.
