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Errands done, garage straightened up, work project finished, yard work done, emails checked.  It’s snowing, cold… breezy. I’m leaning back in my desk chair…

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday… inhale, exhale. Lord, shift my heart to Easter.

My mind goes to the resurrection. No sooner do I say “resurrection” under my breath and I’m in tears.

There is no order or sequence to these vignettes, combined they are but a glimpse of that instant moment in time when there is no more time… in the twinkling of an eye… when I will be raised/changed.

I will be on my face in tears or adoration… no, I think I’ll be on my feet with arms victoriously thrust up with my heart bursting in praise … or maybe just still… finally still and silent…  I could see myself thrown into His arms, silent, in tears, finding the words that have been groanings deep within all my life. There is so much to say here…

I will see my father, Al McConnell for the very first time… there is nothing more I can say in this moment here.

I will see my mom… free from grief/pain.  

Lori and I will gaze into one another’s eyes like never before… our daughters, their husbands, their children and their children will be on some dance floor that’s like a jeweled sea dancing, dancing, dancing some kind of previously-unknown-heavenly folk dance that has us all holding shoulders, kicking up our feet, singing in Hebrew, with colorful hats, shimmering garments…in some ever growing family circle laughing as we wobble all over.

Lori and I will wander through some crowded banquet hall of heaven with a never empty glass filled with the finest wine. Like a massive wedding reception (only with good food and a great DJ), the hall is jammed… we don’t walk, we bounce off countless groups of re-united families and friends; bumping into Nanny & Pop, Jim Schulz, Grandma & Grandpa McConnell, my dad…old friends, old knuckleheads and “nobodies” from every era, age and continent…

There a campfire in a moonscape alpine valley with the men I’ve served with over the years… A whole lot of stories you wouldn’t expect to hear are being told… but finally a lull in the conversation comes, and someone summarizes it all, “We made it… We did well”.

Okay… it’s at this point that my writing cannot keep up with my heart and mind’s kaleidoscopic impressions. I’m flooded with emotions, pictures, images, passages, quotes, faces, stories …

20 minutes pass. I cannot describe all my heart yearns for at the mention of “resurrection”.

I cannot fully express all my heart wants to say to Christ. That day will come.

He IS risen!

Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed— in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.

For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: "Death has been swallowed up in victory."

"Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. -1 Corinthians 15

-Craig McConnell

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