The All-Important Easter Photographs

 How many times are holiday photos next to impossible to snap? Easter 1958 seemed to be one of those times. 

Mother recalled what an active, but happy little one I was. I remembered car trips with my grandparents in the back seat and my father driving as Mother sat in the passenger seat. Of course, child restraints in a vehicle were unheard of in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Many excursions found me climbing numerous times over the front seat to get to my grandparents and back. Finally, my patient, but firm, mother indicated, “No more. Stay up here.”

Perusing the photos from my second Easter revealed a somber two-year-old in the more formal Easter poses. Yet one blurry snapshot showed me, in my terrible twos, with an expression of delight, hugging tightly an apparently new stuffed bunny doll. Probably Mother tried to get a better candid shot but couldn’t get me to hold still long enough for that. Videos were non-existent for our family in those days. (As I got a couple of years older, I remember being told the expense of photographs, from the film purchase to the cost of film developing. Wow! Have times changed? Now we just erase those imperfect shots and take another one!)

Looking at the "Easter family portrait," I was a subdued child between my smiling parents with Dad holding my left hand and his right hand cuddled me on his right knee so my grandma, Gladys Rainey Smith, could quickly take the photograph. I couldn’t muster a smile since I was concentrating so strongly on keeping every muscle still to ensure a good picture! Truthfully, my serious countenance probably denoted my slight displeasure at not getting my way. (How thankful I am that both of my parents continued to build structure into my daily life to direct my excessive activeness into purposeful life responsibilities so that I learned to smile during needful tasks that I didn't really want to do.)

Old photographs tell remarkable stories. This photograph of my parents and me from the most festive day of the year reveals what a special observation it was. All three of us are wearing hats. Dad and Mother have on their suits with him sporting the necessary tie. My frilly dress with its full skirt held out by a can-can exuded the joyfulness of the day. Dad had purchased corsages for Mother, Grandma, and me. Mine was a replica of a bunny with stiff ribbon forming its ears.

Always egg decorating and subsequent hunting, sometimes cuddly stuffed animals, new Easter frocks (my grandfather, Calvin Callcayah Smith always referred to our new Easter dresses in that way), and usually a special candy treat highlighted memories from the spring season’s holidays. Yet always we knew in our home, the main reason for Easter was the resurrection of Jesus. Dad most usually referred to Sunday as “the Lord’s Day.” That moniker for Sunday originated with the first Easter.

The first day of the week began to be called The Lord’s Day following the resurrection of Jesus on a Sunday. Each of the four gospels record the women approaching the tomb early on the first day of the week, only to be startled to find the stone rolled away and alarmed at the empty tomb. Later that day, in the evening, the frightened disciples hid in a locked room to avoid the same fate of their Master. Suddenly, the resurrected Christ appeared in the middle of them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”

Each Lord’s Day provides an opportunity to reboot with a group of people who like myself needs to be reminded only Jesus, the Prince of Peace, can bring lasting calm and assurance to our hearts. Each day as we spend time with Him in His Word and prayer, we sense a deep-seated awareness that the peace of the Perfect One who endured shame and pain for our sins can permeate our day. How many times during a chaotic moment, following a cruel outburst aimed at us, or a sudden earth-shattering crisis must we stop and recall the words of Christ as recorded in John 14:27 –

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you.

I do not give peace to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

As we celebrate the day Jesus came back to life after being sacrificed willingly for our sins on the cross, may we renew our commitment to daily turn to Him for the only peace that will enable us to navigate a world full of fear, uncertainty, and turmoil.

Lord, I trust what You did on the cross to pay for my sins. I receive the gift of salvation that only You can give even though I don’t deserve Your forgiveness. I know I can do nothing to earn eternal life from You. Each day, may I look to Your Word to know Your plan for me, choosing to be aware of Your peace. Give me courage and strength to resist the incessant pull of society’s unrelenting demand to compromise and cave in to a destructive thought pattern—realizing that prevalent damaging thinking relegates me to stress, depression, with the constant search for acceptance yet never attaining it and being left with a sickening feeling of inadequacy in most areas of my life. Jesus, just as You brought peace to the frightened disciples on that first Easter evening, I commit to hear and live by Your words of “Peace be with You,” even if I have to “restart” (confess my wrong thinking and renew my pledge to rely on You and obey Your words) frequently throughout the day.