Easter morning, and it is pouring rain in Phoenix, which sounds like a mythical fairytale. Down here in the Southwest, we take it when we get it, even when the water balloon hunt I planned may never come to pass. I know you people in other parts of the country deal with this weather thing regularly, but mostly, we just have sunny days and boiling hot sunny days to deal with.

Easter Sunday four years ago looked different than it ever had in our lives. We were dealing with a pandemic, and personally attending Mass and receiving the Eucharist was put on hold. Unthinkable! Never had this happened in our lifetime. It was only four years ago that we dealt with restrictions, fear, isolation, and confusion. Look at us now, back to business as usual—or perhaps, it only looks like that on the surface?

Hopefully, some of us realized the vital importance of the Mass and receiving Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. Some of us were finally let off the hook, and others hid in fear and seclusion. Where were you then? Where are you now?

Our parish streamed Mass online and then offered Eucharist in the courtyard afterward. People would watch online and then drive over forty-five minutes to receive the Eucharist. They would come with tears in their eyes, longing for Him who died and rose to prove His love and our worth. For me, it was an incredible witness of love and faith.

Where are we now, America? Where are our hearts? Living our faith is not a side hustle or a convenient solution when we need something from God. It reveals our hearts and Christ’s place in them.

“Life is short, and we are dead a long time.” (M. Kelly)

Wherever you are right now, whatever is going on in your life, you can turn and invite Christ into it. There is never a “too late, too bad, too worthless” in His love for you. It is hard to understand that someone you’ve never met knows and loves you so intimately. Just because I can’t fathom it doesn’t make it any less accurate. We all have wounds, scars, and junk that have been part of our lives. To even consider that God cares about every detail of my life and longs to share his heart and heal mine seems impossible. “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (Matt 9:26)

This Easter 2024, my invitation, starting today, is to get out or get the Bible, blow off the dust, and start reading His Story in the Gospels. Get to know the God you hope to spend eternity with through His Incarnate Son. Our days are numbered, and we do not know when our lives will end. This is no fear tactic. Instead, a gentle reminder. Heaven is not a guarantee, but what we choose in this life reveals God’s place in our hearts. God or not, God. This is what God will give us for eternity. I took Mass and the Eucharist for granted, and when it was taken away, it made me work harder, striving to receive this precious gift as soon as possible and never take it for granted again.

The rain continues to pour on our dry, thirsty ground, proving that miracles are happening all around us.  It doesn’t look good for the water balloon hunt, so it’s time for plan B.

“This is the day the Lord has made (rain and all); let us be glad and rejoice in it” (Psalm 118:24). Happy Easter.