Sometime around late May or June, my brothers and I would find them.  You know, the occasional not-yet-found Easter eggs hidden in various bushes around our house; back when real eggs were used after being dipped in some kind of dye mixed with vinegar that stunk almost as much as the rotten eggs. I didn’t know the actual story of Easter, so Easter meant little more to me than finding colored eggs. As holidays went, it was pretty weak; well below Christmas, Halloween and even Thanksgiving.  I see things different now.


Easter is about the God-man coming to earth to live and show us what God is really like; only to end His 33 years by dying mercilessly on a brutal cross after being whipped and beaten in order to be the propitiation for our sins.  Propitiation means that He took our place for the sins we have done; He paid the price we were supposed to pay.  Easter is a remembrance, a tribute, to the One who paid that price.  And, it is a celebration that after paying the price by offering His life on “Good Friday”, He rose again on Sunday, Easter morning, having been seen by over 500 people and his disciples as well, before visibly ascending into Heaven. The disciples, who just a few days earlier denied they knew His name, would never be the same again; 11 of the 12 of them were willingly martyred for preaching the gospel boldly.  Why would they do that?  He rose again and they saw Him!


Easter eggs are now plastic, filled with chocolate and other prizes; I almost feel gypped.  Well maybe not too much; after all, Christ was a much bigger prize and He found me!  Stinky as I was, He found me.  If He hasn’t already, He’ll find you too; even if you’re a rotten egg.