{Sunday, April 11, 6:58 p.m.}

He is risen!

And at precisely eight-thirty a.m., I arose too from my alleged deathlike slumber (my roommates inform me that my immovable form and completely blank visage when asleep give them the startling impression that overnight I have joined the ranks of the dearly departed). While my good little fellow Bible school students trotted off to attend church, I stuck my nose outside, retreated for a few minutes, and reappeared in a tanktop and shorts with my backpack slung over my shoulder. This Easter morning would be like no other in my short life, for I planned to celebrate the Lord’s resurrection quite alone on a quite lovely bit of beach in the quite bright sun.

So I did! Pouring forth all that stirred in my heart (which turned out to be a lot when the whole morning could be spent talking and listening to Him), I rejoiced anew that I love a risen Saviour and that, more wonderful by far, He loves me. And He poured forth blessings, as He does every day — such as the surprise phone call from home during which James gravely informed me that yesterday his Little League team played a game against the Diamondbacks. I could picture his solemn little eyebrows puckering as he told me, “They’re a very good team. So it was a good game.” Such as the brisk cross-island walk with Michelle complete with that glistening glow girls get upon exerting themselves in hot weather and with a discussion of our limitless love for Anne. And such as the half-hour study time afterward, lying on my tummy in the grass reading about the character of God as revealed in His name El-Shaddai — the Almighty provider and comforter.

Come five o’clock, I slipped into a skirt and flippity-flopped down to the dining hall where to my boundless delight we were served layered lettuce and pea salad (which Grandma Jo makes every Easter) and individual tiny cups of jellybeans. After dishes were over, we met together for our weekly evening service and I was overwhelmed as if for the first time by … Him. He is so indescribable that half of me doesn’t want to try, and He is yet so powerful that I must speak. knowing You, Jesus, knowing You … there is no greater thing! You’re my all, You’re the best, You’re my joy, my righteousness … and i love You, Lord! Thus ended Easter Sunday — but not, praise God, His life or His life in me. He is risen indeed!