I bought the most darling pair of white high-heeled sandals the other day at my FAVORITE store, the one we Southerners call "Tah-ehr-zshay" when we're trying to be posh. (Yeah, we know we ain't foolin' nobody.) And I've worn them a couple of times. The fashion crisis always arises....if the outfit is primarily black, can I get away with wearing all-white shoes, even if I'm carrying a bag that is black with some white on it? I should ask my fashionista friend, but she's the one who reminds me not to wear my track suit jacket to go Krogering. So hrm... Well, I wore the shoes with my Easter outfit. And I had fun wearing them. My cute little pink toes looked like candies wrapped in white bows. And how much better can you get?
No, Easter isn't about outfits or cute shoes or bunnies or eggs or pretty flowers. It's about the One who lived, died, and rose again, just because He loved us so much. Loved the people who would love Him back and loved the ones who hated Him and still hate Him. We sang the Hallelujah chorus at the end of the worship time Sunday morning. Perfect way to rejoice at God's love for us. Christmas and Easter, the alpha and omega of the story of Jesus' direct (bodily) interaction with people here on earth (His whole story is everlasting, without beginning or end)...fitting times to sing Handel's beautiful anthem.
So have you discovered the origin of my blog's name? Give ya a hint....think jazz.