By Kelly Carr

It’s time. But we’ve arrived embarrassingly late to the grand event, skittering to a halt before the guest of honor. Our garments are tattered and spattered with mud. We are a sight to behold.

We are the impetuous children, having frolicked and spurned guidance, fully ensconced in our own whimsies, play, and merriment without another care in the world.

And so we look down in shame, cheeks flushed, unsteadily rocking back and forth, twisting our fingers behind our backs in anticipation of the reprimand to come. We have strayed beyond the given boundaries. It is evidenced in our appearance.

But in a twist of fate we hear not the harsh scorn of threat and demise but rather a welcoming demeanor. “At last—you’ve made it! Come in, my children, come in. I have been waiting for you. Look what I have in store.”

Presented before us is a feast with place settings for any and all who would come in. As we enter the grand dining room, a gift is offered to each of our outstretched hands.

It is Resurrection Sunday. Today we dwell upon Jesus’ ultimate gift to us—grace. That’s what the resurrection is. It’s a gift undeserved, fully offered to our humbled souls.

This is what it means to each of us—a chance to be whole, to be clean, to be new. A chance to be looked upon not as we are but as we could be.

Our future is bright. Our potential is full before us. We have been given a chance to start the day anew. We are looked at through eyes of pure love by a Father who gave everything to invite us in to dwell with him.