The Lesson in Resurrection Cookies: Amanda's Story
Let me set the scene for you. It’s Easter weekend. I had the grand idea of making Resurrection cookies with my 9-year-old. You see, back in my early tweens, I have a very vivid memory of making these cookies and, even though I thought it was so weird that my mom was making me smell the vinegar and taste the salt, it is one of the best Easter memories I have. I very carefully prepared all the ingredients and had my Bible sitting open on the table, ready to begin. This was going to be magical.
Long story short, what I had envisioned in my head was not the event that happened. My oldest was not as enamored with the activity as I thought she would be. In fact, the only person in the house that sat down for the duration of the activity was my mother. Add in the splattering of meringue all over the kitchen, and my mood was dismal, to say the least. Oh, sure, I read the corresponding Bible passages, but there was a small voice in my head wondering what was the point.
Somewhere in all of this, the next step was to read John 3:16. Yep. Heard this verse a thousand times before. I can almost say it in my sleep. But, because I’ve committed to this, I will look it up and read it right from scripture. Whatever good it will do.
John 3:16
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son…
There is a small word that caught my eye. God loved the world so much, loved mankind so much, that he gave his one and only Son. God didn’t exchange his Son. He didn’t barter his Son. There weren’t any strings attached or deals slid under the table to nullify the agreement. God freely gave his one and only Son. All we have to do in return? …that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. All we have to do is believe that Jesus did what the Bible says he did. That he went to the cross and shed every last drop of blood for you and for me. Suddenly, in the middle of my disgruntlement, there was a light that was shining. My own Good Friday, if you will. Yes it was dark, but underneath it all, I found God. He reminded me that my salvation was a free gift. I didn’t have to earn it because I already had it.
What came next surprised me, although it shouldn’t have. In the middle of reaccepting God’s grace that was freely given to me, I felt the finger poking my shoulder telling me I needed to extend the same grace to my family, who did not share the same enthusiasm for this cooking session. My sinful nature made me want to cross my arms and plead that this wasn’t the same. How could they not be excited about this opportunity to read the Gospel? I’m working for Jesus, you know. But it was the same. At the core, it was the exact same situation. Which led me back to the foot of the cross, asking for forgiveness.
In the end, we all put tape over the oven door to “seal the tomb”. After all, each of us was responsible for Jesus being on the cross. We all had sins that needed to be forgiven. When we woke up on Easter morning, the sweet result was an empty tomb and the glorious words from the angels: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, he has risen, just as he said!”
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