My Sunday Confession

I should probably save this one for Easter Sunday. But I just thought of it, so I'm going to share it this week.

I really don't like Easter.

I know, this is somewhat like admitting you don't like Santa Clause or candy.

But I really don't. I don't like Easter Sunday, specifically.

It's all very understandable. My family is Lutheran. I grew up going to church every Sunday. On Palm Sunday, we would march into church in our fancy clothes, waving our palm branches and singing songs. Hooray! Christ has arrived in Jerusalem! He's brought the word of God with him!

The service always ended the same. The lights in the church were turned completely off. We all left in silence. You'd think this would traumatize me, but it didn't. This was somehow not as depressing as the following Sunday, Easter Sunday.

On Easter Sunday, my dad insisted we go to Sunrise Service. It started at 6:30 a.m. and we lived about 40 minutes away. You do the math.

Then we'd get to church and the lights were still off. We walked in and took seats in the dark. In silence. As the service got going, the lights slowly came back on and the songs started up again and by the end ~ hooray, Christ is risen! Yay! Let's go upstairs and eat our Easter Sunday breakfast in the celebration hall!

But I never quite got over the trauma. The coldness I can still feel in my bones every Easter Sunday. The fatigue from being yanked from my warm bed while it was still very dark black outside. The depressing start to the service. The smell of an old musty church that's heat and lights have not been on for a week.

Not to mention the fact that going to Sunrise Service meant the Easter Bunny didn't visit our house after we moved back from Geneva. My brothers probably could have cared less, but I kind of missed the egg hunts and candy baskets.

So to this day, if I can avoid going to church on Easter Sunday, I do that. I think God understands. It's not the message I don't care for. It's the memories.

P.S. I also dislike Lenten Roses. Don't tell the Master Gardener Club, they might kick me out.