Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!
Earth and heaven in chorus say, Alleluia!
Raise your joys and triumphs high, Alleluia!
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply, Alleluia!

I stood looking at the stage of our church, decked out for Easter and gave a happy sigh. My family sat around me, I looked pretty good in my new easter outfit, and hope just exuded from the day. After all, it was hard not to be hopeful on the day Jesus conquered sin and death. I sang with my heart.

Love's redeeming work is done, Alleluia!

Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!

Death in vain forbids him rise, Alleluia!

Christ has opened paradise, Alleluia!

I wanted to shout for joy, real joy.  Easter had always been a favorite of mine, but the true hope Jesus offered by His work was so amazing and I could feel that hope flowing through me.

Lives again our glorious King, Alleluia!
Where, O death, is now thy sting? Alleluia!
Once he died our souls to save, Alleluia!
Where's thy victory, boasting grave? Alleluia

There was the normal shuffle as someone prayed. I confess I have a hard time closing my eyes during the prayer. I find it very interesting to watch as the worship team steps off, the sound team scurrie to make adjustments and the pastor gets into place.

Pastor Dave smiled at us. “He is Risen.”

“He is Risen indeed!” I said, along with so many others.

“Easter is always such a special day. But often we celebrate the wrong thing.”

Inwardly, I cringed and was ready to tune out. We weren’t exactly an Easter Bunny church. My family had gone to maybe three Easter Egg hunts in my childhood. I felt my excitement for the sermon slipping.

“We often celebrate Jesus coming to make bad people good,” Pastor Dave said. “But that isn’t what He came to do. He came to make dead people live again.”

I let out a long breath. Now, there was a message I could get behind and needed.

And as the pastor continued. I realized I needed it more than I thought. In my quest to restore hope and joy, I had lost sight of the fact that I needed new life and only Jesus could give that.

I grabbed a cup of lavender vanilla tea at work and started to take down the Easter decorations in the store. In an hour, when the store opened. I wanted to be well on my way to having our new seasonal display up. I loved all the books and items Lacie had picked out for our spring display. I removed all the Easter books and put them on the cart to be returned to the back room. I wove the beautiful spring garlands around the shelves and moved the books that were staying into the correct places.

Jesus didn’t come to make bad people good, but to bring dead people to life.

The sermon would be with me for a while. It made me think of Carol. I wondered how she was doing. I should message her and tell her how her new year’s post had impacted me. Oh! I needed to decide what I would do this week from my list.

I stepped back from the display and smiled at how cheerful the flowers looked on the display case. That was what I would do! I would get flowers and arrange them.

I watched a couple of videos and decided I just wanted to have fun arranging the flowers I bought. I like the idea of looking professional, but it was more effort than I wanted to go into. I arranged the greenery, baby’s breath, and pink carnations out in front of me and put my earbuds in. I was listening through an old favorite. Pollyanna. I adored the book. I didn’t understand how Pollyanna had ever become a cultural way of saying shallow optimism because that wasn’t what the book offered.

It had been far too long since I had read this story. I smiled as I remembered my mother reading this book aloud to us one summer. I missed our homeschooling days. Actually, I just missed our family being happy together. What had happened to change things?

Jesus came to make dead people live again.

I brushed a tear from my nose and then another. If that is what Jesus had come to do, why wasn’t he doing it for my parents’ marriage? Why did my parents still barely talk to each other after the months of counseling? Why did I still feel like there was a part of my heart that was dead because of all that had happened with Jessie?

“Why aren’t You bringing life?” I asked, pushing a stem of greenery into the vase.

I retrieved my Bible and went over some of the sections I had read recently. How many times had God been working and people not recognized it at the time? Abraham waiting for Isaac. Joseph spent years in prison. God took the people on a long route to the promised land. God had a plan, but it wasn’t easy to understand. Many people never did.

I took a deep breath and felt myself choking on my tears. Knowing God had a plan and living it out were two different things.

“Please help me to trust Your plan.” I prayed. I returned to arranging my flowers and listening as Pollyanna pulled a whole town into playing the glad game. As soon as all four vases were filled, I pulled out my mercies notebook.

The knowledge that Jesus can bring life out of dead things

Knowing that God has a plan

God’s mercy in knowing that my heart and brain may falter and sometimes doubt, but He is faithful

For spring flowers

 Want something to get you in the mood for Easter? I have four books for you!

If He Lives Free 15 -19

An Easter Canticle on Sale 16-23

Father, Forgivie Them $0.99

Joseph of Amamathia $0.99

Also, enjoy an Easter episode of The Weekly Marcies of Pam Ellis coming on Monday!

I shouldn’t have waited this long, but work and life had been so full. I walked into the store, which had boasted cute Easter dresses the last couple of years. I walked past a manikin displaying some weird t-shirts and distressed jeans. Would that trend ever die? Would I live to see the day where people stopped paying extra to have jeans already ripped?

I went to a rack of dresses. This looked promising. There were lacy-looking dresses, as well as floral printed dresses. No, that one was almost see-through. This other one was cute…if it didn’t have a slit up the side that would give a great view of my often forgotten-to-shave legs.

I moved to a different rack. I snickered at one dress, which my sisters and I would call a fishing dress, the kind a girl might put on when she wanted to fish for a man. I then spotted a pretty purple dress with flowers on it. It was simple and pretty. I grabbed the one in my size, which made me wish it was easy to lose twenty or so pounds, and made my way to the dressing room.

I looked in the mirror and laughed. While a pretty dress, it was unflattering on me. The sleeves were puffy, which made me look fat.

After changing back into my own clothes, I put the dress back onto the rack. Perhaps, attaching one of my week's ideas to something as uncertain as being able to find an Easter dress had been a bad idea.

So just have fun.

I smiled at my own thought. I should. I should have fun even if it didn’t net me a dress. I went to another store. They were smaller, but I liked not having to wade through miles of racks.

I turned and saw a manikin in a lacy skirt and a pale pink floral top. I loved it. I walked around and I found the rack. Amazingly, they had my sizes of both. As soon as I got to the dressing room, I eagerly put them on.

I smiled into the mirror. It was perfect. I snapped a photo and sent it to my sisters.

I put together another Easter basket. Who knew Jared’s idea of offering bookish adult Easter baskets would take off so well? We already had reordered supplies once and it looked like we would need to reorder again to meet the demand. Even than we would sell out by Easter.

I placed the raffia in the bottom of the basket and then added the leather journal and manly looking devotional along with a wooden pen and a paperweight with a Bible verse on it. I didn’t know if people really used paperweights, but it was a challenge to find manly items to include in this basket.

I set the completed basket on the counter and wrapped it with the plastic cover. I tagged it for Mrs. Hanasy and moved to the next basket.

“Wow!”

I turned, and Jared stood there, surveying the counter covered in baskets.

“You’ve been busy.

I smiled. “You did say that these needed to be done today.”

“I did.” Jared sat down at a chair. “But I didn’t think you would have so many ready by now. I’ll start moving them to the back and calling the customers and tell them the baskets are ready for pick-up.”

I nodded and returned to making three for Mrs. Blane. Three teen daughters. Okay, this was perfect for young teens. I still wasn’t sure about giving adult men Easter baskets.

“Jared was right. You're a miracle worker.”

I smiled at Lacie as I tied the bow onto the last of the baskets for the three teen girls. “We haven’t had a lot of customers today, so I’ve been able to get a lot of these done. Besides, Jared’s making it easier for me since he is taking them into the back and can call the costumers.”

Lacie smiled. “I don’t know what we would do without you.”

Shaking my head, I put the plastic wrap around another basket. “Well, as long as you will have me, I’ll be here.”

Lacie smiled. “Until your Prince Charming comes riding in and sweeps you off to his castle.”

I snorted. “Very unlikely.”

“Perhaps, but I can dream.”

“Well, just make sure the castle you dream up has a large library.”

“Like the one in Beauty and the Beast?” Lacie asked.

“Is there another library castle kind?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen many castles. Oh, before I forget, I sent you an email with the details for an upcoming event. There is a local pastor who has written a book about using the summer to reach your neighbors. He wants to have a book signing here and have us carry his books. Jared read over the book and thought it would be a great idea. I was hoping you could come up with a small display and work out the details for some time in late May. My pregnancy brain has not been helpful of late.”

I nodded. “I would be happy to.” I did enjoy helping to put together events. Lacie was always so careful about the authors she had in our store. I always knew they would be a joy to work with when they did.

“Great. I’ll forward you the email with the basic information, and I’ll let you take it from there.”

I nodded and returned to making the easter baskets for the teens. After that I had one that was Jane Austen themed. And the idea of giving adults an easter basket was growing on me. I mean, if someone gave me a lavender/bookish one, I would be totally into it.

I mentally made a list to add to my mercy notebook when I got home.

My new Easter outfit

Getting to make Easter baskets

My job

Easter and the hope of the resurrection.

Photos from the Month:

Books I've Read:

The Bookshop Girl by Sylvia Bishop Hardback

The Birthright by Janette Oke and T. Davis Bunn Audiobook

Help for the Hungry Soul by Kristen Wetherell Audiobook

The Distant Beacon by Janette Oke and T. Davis Bunn Audiobook

The Beloved Land by Janette Oke and T. Davis Bunn Audiobook

A Year of Flowers by Suzanne Woods Fisher Paperback

A Bear Called Paddington by Michael Bond Paperback

Kate's Truth is up for preorder

Favorite Sermon:

2 Corinthians 12:10: Pleased with Weakness

Favorite Memories:

Going to two state parks in one day with my Dad and my husband

Visiting my grandparents

Decorating for spring

Spring gardens and walks

“I don’t think Molly has stopped chattering about her time with you.”

I smiled as I took a sip of my lavender vanilla tea. “I’m so glad. I enjoyed having her.”

Jared set the box of tea down behind the counter. “She's growing up so fast. I want to be the best uncle-father I can be to her. But as we are in the double-digits now, I’m less and less sure I can be what I need to be to her.”

I swallowed, thinking of how both my parents were distant these days as they struggled to rebuild their marriage. I swallowed. “I’m sure you being there for her will mean more to her than she will ever know.”

He sighed. “I just remember how excited she was when Lacie and I got married. How full of gladness she was. She loved Pollyanna and always played the glad game. Now, mostly I hear about how she wishes her own parents were alive and how annoying it is to have a baby sister around. Heaven help us when our next little one arrives.”

I pressed my lips together and I unloaded the boxes of tea onto the shelf for display, enjoying the cozy feeling of being in the shop as the spring rain poured down. “Can I suggest you find something fun to do with her? I was recently reminded by my siblings that it’s important to have fun together during times of turbulence and change. I bet Molly would benefit from the two of you doing something fun.”

“That’s an idea. Any suggestions on what we do?”

I turned toward him as I finished putting the cherry blossom tea next to the raspberry rose tea. “Well, I’m going to do one of those online painting tutorials this evening. I think my siblings have decided to join me. It should be fun.”

“Molly does like creative things. I should try that. Send me the link?”

I nodded. I just hoped this worked for him and for me.

While I had envisioned that my siblings and I would have a good time with lots of laughter, I hadn’t anticipated my siblings laughing so much at the instructor.

To be fair, the instructor was fond of adjectives and chose some pretty fun ones to describe the river, trees, and tiny log cabin we were painting.

“A jolly log?” Asa said, laughing. He hadn’t painted a thing on his canvas. “I have the sudden urge to go reread the Chronicles of Narnia. Jolly good.”

Now he had me wanting to read them, but not because of the word jolly. But later today, I would pick up my favorite, the Horse and His Boy, and reread it.

“A luscious river,” Ben teased, striking a pose. “My what a luscious river. It puts me in mind of a dinner I had once.”

I couldn’t help laughing with them. But while they were funny, I couldn’t help but be irritated. This was not the painting party I had envisioned. I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to be irritated. I wanted to allow my siblings to have fun, even if it wasn’t how I wanted them to have fun.

I wanted to be humble and set myself aside like Jesus. Which was getting harder as my brothers now turned their humor towards our paintings.

“That doesn’t look like pleasant oceans green, Pam.”

I took a deep breath and tried to figure out how to respond. I caught Ivy’s eyes.

“Guys, Pam wanted to paint. I think…"

“And what is that!” Asa laughed as he pointed to my attempt at a bunny in the corner of the painting.

I took a deep breath and tried to control my words. “Asa, Ben, I know that you think this guy is funny but please don’t make fun of my work. If you don’t want to join us…”

Asa huffed. “Don’t be so uptight.”

Ben looked into my eyes and then at Asa but said nothing.

“Hey!” Meg rarely raised her voice, but she could be loud when she wanted to be. “Guys, you can have fun and not be mean.”

“I wasn’t trying to be mean, it’s just that-”

Ben cleared his throat. “Asa, if the girls find it mean, then I think you should stop even if it wasn’t your intention to be mean.”

I nodded toward Ben. I knew it had cost him. He didn’t like to confront people and he hated being out of sorts with Asa.

Asa huffed and walked out of the room muttering.

“I guess that makes this a girl's evening.” Meg’s voice was falsely cheerful. “Let me back up the video."

I continued to paint, even though my heart wasn’t in it. But I was too stubborn to let Asa know he had made me sad. It would make me feel like he had won.

I could hear the boys talking and laughing. They had probably started another game of Risk or perhaps were watching one of their favorite cartoon shows.

I glanced at Ivy, and she was painting, but not even attempting to follow along.

There was some throat clearing and I turned. Asa stood there, his face red. “Pam, Meg, Ivy… I’m sorry.”

I blinked. I glanced at Ben, but his eyes were on our brother.

“I just…” He sighed. “I like to laugh and sometimes I forget that I need to stop myself to be kind.”

Ivy set her brush in a mason jar of water and gave Asa a hug. “Forgiven.”

I wanted to follow her, but I suddenly realized that I was struggling inside. I was upset that he had ruined my idea of a perfect evening with our siblings.

Ben glanced at me and then at Asa and back again.

I tried to beat some sense into my wayward heart. Keeping short accounts was what I was supposed to do as a Christian, and after all, it wasn’t that big of an issue. I shouldn’t be petty. I shouldn’t be bitter. I needed to…

“Hey, we know you love to laugh. We just didn’t want you to laugh at us.” Meg said. “Grab your brush again.”

I was mentally screaming at myself and yet I stood frozen, staring at my brother. What was I waiting for?

He needs to be more sorry.

And right then and there, I wished I could split myself in two and tackle that part of me.

I’ve been hurt too much. This is the last straw.

Asa stepped toward me. “I’m really sorry, Pam. I was the meanest to you.”

I prayed and took a step forward. “Forgiven.” I hadn’t felt like saying the words. I wasn’t sure I meant them completely and it was emotionally exhausting to say them. However, I felt like I had won a battle.

Asa smiled and returned to his canvas. It was awkward for the next few minutes as we all worked on our paintings and tried to not be awkward, making it even more so.

Then the artist on screen made a comparison of what we were painting to something a little off-color. I looked up at my siblings horrified. I had skimmed through to make sure there wasn’t something like that and I missed it.

“Well, I guess we can all agree that was weird,” Ben said into our horrified silence.

We all laughed. We turned off the sound and made up our own ridiculous commentary of what he was saying.

This week's Mercies:

My siblings

Choosing to laugh

God’s power to help me overcome the ugly sin inside of me.

Host a tea party.

It sounded so simple when I was making a list. I was good at lists. In fact, I had three different, very good lists around me. But I sat, staring at my screen with my invite list, frozen.

I couldn’t do this. Yes, it was on my list to host a tea party with a few friends, but actually doing it…

You're so needy.

I’m sorry. We can’t be friends anymore.

I covered my ears, but since the words came from inside my own head, that didn’t stop them. How could I try to reach out to people when things had gone so badly before?

I took a deep breath. Who could I go to for some better counsel than what my own warring heart and mind offered?

Joan.

I texted her asking if I could ask her a question and then I continued on my grocery list, even though planning the party was making my anxiety rise.

My phone rang. It was Joan.

“Hi Joan.”

“Hi Pam, what’s going on?”

How did I explain why something so simple was causing me so much stress? Maybe just say it as plainly as that. “You know I told you about the list I made at the beginning of the year?”

“Oh yes,” Joan said. “I thought it was a wonderful idea to get back to things you loved.”

I sighed.  “Well, this week, I was going to have a tea party. I used to have them often and I loved it. But…I’m stressed out just thinking about it. I mean, after losing my friend last year, it seems like it’s impossible to do something this social. I’ve been sitting here, panicking too much to send out the email invites. How do I get over this and just do it?”

“Who says you have to?”

I sank into my chair. “What?”

“Who says you have to do this now? If it is that stressful, it doesn’t seem like that would make it a joyful experience. Yes, sometimes you have to push yourself to do things when you don’t want to but other times you need to give yourself some time to heal.”

My breath caught and tears spilled over. I felt silly for how much relief those words brought me. I sniffed. “So you don’t think I need to worry about this now?”

Joan was quiet for a moment and then spoke. “Pam, are you still in God’s word?”

I looked over at my open bible. I had caught up on my reading plan. “Yes.”

“Are you still in church?”

I laughed because Joan and I made a point of saying hello to each other every Sunday. “Yes.”

“Are you staying in fellowship with other believers? By that I mean are there people in your life that you are sharing with about what is going on in your heart and who encourage your walk with Jesus?”

 Joan. My siblings. Crystal. I had some very good friends who pointed my gaze upward. “I do.”

“Then Pam, if there are some social things that are causing you to panic, maybe it shows there is an area in your heart that needs some time to heal. As long as you are pursuing healing from The Healer, I don’t think you need to worry about completing something off your checklist.”

I let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“Pam?

“Yes?”

“You're doing well.”

Again the tears sprung to my eyes. “Every time I think I’m doing well, I see the long way I have to go.”

She chuckled. “That's the Christian life. Here I am in my seventies and I know I still have a long way to go. May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course?”

“Perhaps see if one person will share tea with you and then come up with some ideas of things that might help you heal. I don’t know if you know this, but I had a baby that was stillborn.”

I sucked in a breath. “What?”

“It had been a rocky year to begin with. I had a few people say some very hurtful things about the reason my baby died. I never wanted to go to church or the grocery store again. So I sat down and I made a list. I let myself skip church for two weeks. For about two months, I slipped in during the first song and left during the final prayer. I avoided some people for a month until I could talk to them in a godly way. I do think giving yourself time to heal before hosting a party is okay.”

I let out a long breath. “Thank you, Joan. I needed that.”

“You are welcome, my dear.”

“And I’m sorry about your baby. Did you name them?”

“We named him Samuel. Because even though we never got to see him take his first breath, we knew he was a gift from God all the same.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. I wanted a faith like Joan's, one that saw the blessings amid the worst life had to offer. “That’s beautiful. Thank you, Joan.”

After saying goodbye, I grabbed a cup of English breakfast tea with a splash of half-and-half and settled down at my desk again. I shoved aside the lists for the tea party and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. I would make a plan - a timeline to give myself permission not to do something, like Joan had done.

I took a sip of tea, but before I put anything down on my plan for giving myself space to rest, I pulled out my mercies notebook to make note of the mercies.

God, who is a healer

Wise words from Joan

The space to rest and heal

My plans were made. I had already slipped my letter onto Ivy’s desk, getting it done early in the week. I had finished my work week. Now, I would bake some of those spice cookies I love and read the next book from my childhood stash: The Boxcar Children.

Or at least I thought my plans were well laid.

“Pam! You're making cookies!” Asa shouted, entering the kitchen.

Asa was as loud and boisterous as Ben was quiet and sweet. He was the sibling who could get most on my nerves. However, if I ever needed someone to be enthusiastic about something, he was the one.

“Perfect! We’re having a movie party. We'll love you and your cookies joining us.”

I stared at him. My plans did not include a movie party or my siblings decimating my cookies when I had hoped to have them for a week of evening enjoyment.

Meg entered the kitchen. “The boys convinced us to try that action movie they’ve been raving about. We should have a lot of fun.”

And there was very little they could have said the make the movie party less appealing, but that was one of them. Offer me a cheesy TV show or a period drama, and I was all in even if I had plans. But one of the boy's action movies…

Not everything is about you.

Perhaps this was an obvious truth that many of my fellow Christians have mastered, but my selfishness was insistent and pervasive. I didn’t want to interrupt my plans but my siblings wanted me. It was far more important to do some fun things that were meaningful to them than for me to lounge in my room and indulge myself.

“How was the movie then?” Lacie rubbed at her back, her baby bump small but visible.

I laughed. “It was… just like I suspected it would be. I didn’t love it, but the time with my siblings was worth it."

Lacie nodded, sadness clouding her eyes. “Time with siblings is something I doubt you will ever regret.”

My heart squeezed. No doubt she was thinking of her own sister who had died in a car accident while estranged from her family. I thought over the evening with my siblings. I did enjoy the time with them. I needed to do more with them. Not only had I withdrawn because of the pain of the last year, but I think I had become less likely to do things I didn’t love. I should do more things for my siblings I wasn’t excited about for myself.

“Aunt Lacie?”

We turned from the bookshelf we were restocking to see Molly holding the hand of Hosanna.

“Yes, Molly?”

“Hosanna isn’t sitting still while I’m trying to read.”

I smothered laughter.

Lacie smiled. “Well, she’s still a little young to sit still.”

Molly sighed. “I can’t wait until she is bigger.” She turned back to her book, leaving the little girl to her mother.

Lacie shook her head. “Poor Molly. She’s having a rough time of it.”

I glanced toward the retreating girl. “Oh? She seems fine.”

She chewed on her lip for a moment before settling Hosanna on her hip and continuing to put the books on the shelf. “Anna has taken to calling me Mama and Jared Daddy. Molly says she’s okay with it, but I know it’s hard. She remembers her parents, but those memories are fading. I think she’s caught between being glad we are here for her and Anna and feeling like she is losing her connection to her past.”

I looked toward the children’s corner where Molly and Anna sat reading. “Anna doesn’t remember her parents, does she?”

Lacie shook her head. “No. It doesn’t seem to bother her. What has been bothering her lately is Molly trying to make her remember. Molly will talk about the mission or something someone did and Anna isn't bothered that she can't remember.”

I put a stack of books onto the shelves. “Maybe Molly can come and spend some time with me at the bookshop? Just her and me? Maybe she needs some attention that isn’t divided between the younger children.”

“That might be just what she needs.” Lacie let Hosanna down. “I’ll see if I can arrange a day for Jared to watch Anna and Hosanna and make sure Molly has a whole day where she is with you or me. After all, she is entering a trying age.”

Hosanna grew fussy and Lacie, with a look my way, grabbed her daughter and took her off to the back where she had a playpen set up.

I continued on the new display of books. We were preparing for the Easter season. We had a selection of Easter devotionals, non-fiction, and fiction all ready to go. I looked at the display. I decided I would get a copy of Incomparable, the devotional by Nancy Wolgemuth. It seemed like a good one. I would start it while I ate the last two spice cookies I had hidden.

I finished the display and moved toward the tea counter. We needed to set out our spring teas. I smiled and dropped a bag of wildberry tea into my mug. I would of course have to try out all the new teas that we had in stock.

I looked around at the shop and just wanted to wrap up this whole moment and put it in my mercy notebook. With plans I looked forward to the next week, teas I was excited to try, and a new devotional, the feeling that wrapped around my heart felt a lot like hope. That feeling is what I would put in my Mercies notebook.

Incomparable: 50 Days with Jesus by Nancy DeMoss Wolgemuth is a powerful devotional that I loved last year. You can get it directly from Revive Our Hearts or from Amazon

Have you ever noticed it is easy to make life sound hard? I mean, yes, life is hard. But as I was thinking about writing this post, the first thing that came to mind for me to put in here is that allergies have been making everything harder this month. Yet, starting with that would give you the wrong idea. Allergies isn't what this month has been about. Yes, there have been things that have made gaining my goals more challenging, but you know what this month has been full of?

~ Laughter

~ Tasty food experiments

~ New state parks visited

~ Excitedly seeing spring bloom

So let me share about my month:

I'm the kind of person who happy eats the same kind of foods over and over again. I'm not very adventuresome... or so I thought. Scott has helped me to try new things and I've found whole categories of food that I love. Some things I thought  were for restaurants only, I've found myself making and loving.

My writing has been a struggle of late. A lot of that has to do with allergies, but God has blessed me with some adventures.