Our Easter celebrations tend toward glaring and loud:
trumpets and choirs and big, gaudy lilies,
baskets full of too-sweet candy and bright, glaring colors.
That is all good—for what it’s worth.

I wish you glorious music
and fragrant flowers;
plenty of chocolate—the good stuff,
and all the luminous beauty of the rainbow.

That is my wish,
for you.
But this blessing is different.

This blessing is not for big moments,
but small.
Not for special days,
but for every day. 

This blessing does not spring forth, 
but nestles into the deepest part of you:
a seed of life, growing;
a thrum of hope, sustaining;
a realization of joy, unexpected.

This blessing is born in the sacred stillness of the garden,
rooted in the vivid darkness of the tomb, 
kept by the tender tears of the lovers,
and nurtured by the hopeful questions of the faithful.

Receive this blessing, my friend. 
Learn to delight in its quiet and its darkness.
Learn to sense its presence moment by moment.
Learn to live within its love—
This Easter blessing 
of light and shadows
of grief and joy
of death and, each day, new life.

*I know we are in the middle of Holy Week, but some of us are thinking ahead to Easter already. 🙂 This blessing was shared with my Patreon community last year.