I'm a little pencil

I'm a little pencil

Tuesday, July 12, 2022

Writing is my Source of Hope

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground unperceived by your Father. And even the hairs of your head are all counted. So do not be afraid.” Matthew 10:29-31



As I sat at the airport, I overheard a conversation behind me between a man and a woman: “You always have this overwhelming anxiety. You need to stop it.” I felt like turning around and telling the man: “It’s not that easy. If she had a headache you wouldn’t just tell her to stop having a headache. It’s the same when you feel anxious. You can’t just make it go away.”


I have felt that anxiety that paralyzes you a few times in my life. I call it the mother’s jinx because most of the time it’s related to my children. When they were little, I was always anxious that they would get sick or that I would lose them in a mall. Anything in the news relating to a missing child would send my head spinning creating horrific scenarios of things that could befall my kids. When they began to drive, I would literally check for accidents in the areas where I knew they would go through. Then came college and my anxiety hit an all time high. I stopped sleeping an uninterrupted night, and I began to write on my journal day and night as if my own life depended on it. I think in a way it did.


My journal helped me to confront my own emotions. In the middle of the night when the house was quiet because everyone was sleeping, it was just me and my journal. My journal created a refuge that filled me with yearning, nostalgia, and many times with peace, joy and hope. It was much easier to express myself on paper when I didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s opinions or judgment. My journal helped to carry me away from reality. It helped me to ease my fears, and it also made me believe that things would get better. When I wrote, I could disconnect from the world and those around me. Writing gave me something to focus on when the world and the people around me became too overwhelming.


On those long and lonely nights, I also discovered that writing is my favorite way to pray, so I began to write letters to Jesus and Mary through my journal. When I write to them, I can put on paper all my worries, desires and concerns. It was during those nights in solitude that I shared with Jesus my anxiety about becoming the perfect human being that God created me to be, and one night I heard His voice in the silence of my heart telling me that I did not have to be a perfect mother or a perfect wife or a perfect daughter. If I tried my best, that was good enough for Him. 


Writing helped me to discover that I had to look at myself through God’s eyes, no one else’s. And the best part of that discovery was that God thinks that I’m amazing. Therefore, who cares if no one else thinks that. The more I saw myself through God’s eyes, the more I wanted to find my true passion. Much of my life had been shaped by other’s expectations of me, so I was curious to find out what God expected of me. It’s hard to get through each day if life has no purpose. I wanted to discover what God’s desire was for me because I felt that it was in that direction where my devotion truly resided.


When I attended my first silent retreat based on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola at the end of 2007, I heard God’s voice loud and clear asking me to write. I listened to Him and I obeyed Him. For the first half of 2008, I wrote and wrote, until I realized that I was writing a book. But after writing the first five chapters, I pushed the book to the back burner where it would remain hidden for the next ten years. 


Writing continued to be my therapy, but I kept it private. I have always been rather shy. When I was an awkward teenager, sometimes I would wish that I could make myself so small that I could disappear. Therefore, when I heard God telling me to share my writings with the world during my second silent retreat at the end of 2008, I hesitated. Sharing my deepest thoughts would take a certain level of boldness that I knew could only come from God. I prayed and I prayed, and He let me know that it’s the bravest thing to do something when you are scared. And I was petrified.


I started small. First, I shared some of my writings with my Emmaus sisters by email. Then, in 2009, I was inspired to write a Lenten Journey: “48 steps to Easter.” I created a blog and shared one step per day during the Lenten season. I did this again in 2010 and 2012. Finally, in 2015, I was moved to create a permanent blog space, and “Christy’s Meditations” was born. I have been sharing my journal writings with all of you through this medium for the past seven years. 


However, the unfinished book kept pulling at me. Every time I went to another silent retreat, and even when I sat alone in my prayer corner, I could hear God’s voice: “When are you going to finish the project that I entrusted to you?” Finally, in 2018, exactly ten years after I started writing it, I unearthed the book from its hiding place. This time, I was determined, and yet it took me another three years to finish it. 


In 2021, I was proud and terrified at the same time. I had a finished manuscript. What was the next step? I took it to God in prayer, and He told me once again to push my fears aside. “You have to publish it,” I heard His voice within my heart. Yet, I wanted to believe that it was not His voice, so I kept coming up with all sort of excuses: “I am a nobody, why would anyone want to read a book published by me?” “If the author was someone famous like Scott Hahn or Matthew Kelly, the book will sell, but who’s going to buy a book written by an unknown author?” Yet, I kept hearing God’s voice whispering in my ear: “You are amazing because I created you. Why are you embarrassed of letting people know the real you through your writings? Why do you want to hide my message rather than sharing it with the world? Don’t you trust me?”


I guess at the end of the day, if I’m going to be true to myself and to God, I am afraid of rejection. It takes a lot of guts to put my book out there with the hope that others will find meaning in it, that they will see themselves reflected in that which I wrote, to believe that my voice can have some impact in the fractured world we live in. But without that hope, I may be closing myself to the opportunity of something greater which is to be able to share a message of hope beyond my small community.


I feel like God is leading me to a turning point in my life and in my faith. Even though I feel small, unworthy and very anxious of the path that He is leading me through, He is asking me to trust Him. I can continue living in the comfort of the darkness or walk forward towards the light. He is asking me to let Him guide me so I can become the person that He created, loved and chose for this mission. He is asking me to stop hiding my voice and to allow Him to fulfill in me all that He desires for me. 


When I finally decided to say YES to Him, He directed me to an amazing editor who made the book so much better than it was. She has an eagle’s eye which caught every grammatical error and every misspelled word. We spent six months working together until I had a manuscript that I felt was worthy of publication. Now, I just need to find the right publisher that is willing to take a chance on me.


Is it going to be easy to find a home for my book? Probably not. After all, it’s my first book and I read somewhere that it takes a few tries until one finally gets published. But I have to trust that God has a plan because after all, He is the real author of my book. I was just a little pencil in His hand. He directed my thoughts through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. He was the one that pushed me, so I have to trust that He will lead me to the right publisher. And if it doesn’t happen this time, I hope I learn from my mistakes, and that I allow myself the opportunity to recover from them.      


I have fulfilled my mission. The outcome is in God’s Hands. But no matter what happens, this experience has drawn me closer to God, and fulfilling His mission has expanded the landscape of my heart. For the first time, in as long as I can remember, I am no longer filled with anxiety or fear, on the contrary, I am filled with hope.


Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Thursday, July 7, 2022

60 is the new 40… I Hope

There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” Albert Einstein


Last night, I watched a movie on Netflix titled “2 Hearts.” The movie is based on Eric Gregory’s book “All my Tomorrows: A Story of Tragedy, Transplant, and Hope.” It’s the true story of his 19-year-old son Christopher, an organ donor who saved the life of Jorge Bacardi (Bolivar in the movie). Jorge suffered since childhood a lung disease that nearly ended his life. Even though the doctors predicted that he would not live beyond the age of 20, at the age of 64 he received the gift of life, a double-lung transplant that enabled him to take his first full breath of air. That experience in 2008 inspired the Bacardis to build the Gabriel House of Care on Mayo Clinic’s campus in Jacksonville. Before Jorge knew his organ donor by name, he wrote a heartfelt letter of gratitude to the donor family in which he referred to Christopher as “Gabriel,” his saving angel. Christopher, a student at Loyola University in New Orleans, suffered a fatal brain aneurysm. His driver’s license indicated that he was an organ donor, and thus he saved not only Jorge’s life but the life of four other recipients. The movie is narrated from Christopher’s point of view, and it begins with Einstein’s quote: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” 


It’s only been a couple days since I reached the sixties. On the last day of the fifties, I told my daughter, today is my last day of fooling around. Tomorrow, I must become a serious, mature woman. Unfortunately, the need to act mature doesn’t seem to be kicking in just yet. I think deep inside, I will always be an immature child. This is best reflected when I video chat with my two childhood best friends. We automatically revert to complete immaturity. When I’m with them, I can truly be myself. I don’t need to wear a mask. They’ve known me since birth, so they’ve known me at my best and at my worst. When I talk to them, even though we are all in our sixties, we can revert to being ten years old again, and no one will laugh.


My favorite character in the movie is Christopher. You can’t help falling in love with him. He is immature, goofy, gets horrible grades on his first semester at Loyola, his father threatens to cut off his support, and yet, he has this zest for life that sparks a sense of fondness for the teenager. He lived for the moment, almost as if he knew that his life would be cut short.


In a world where all we hear about are tragedies and sadness, we need cheers not tears. We have to live for today and enjoy the moment. That is exactly what I did this past weekend. I spent an amazing weekend in Chicago, doing a combination of mature things proper of my age, as well as some childhood things. If truth be told, I enjoyed the latter more than the former, which is probably why I could relate so well to Christopher while watching the movie.


One of the things I enjoyed most from this weekend was our visit to the zoo. Normally, I would not include a visit to a zoo on a short trip like this. This is something we used to do when the kids were little, but not anymore. Lucky for me, my youngest son Alex and his girlfriend Keely joined us on this trip. Keely is a big time animal lover, so when I gave them the options for our weekend itinerary, the Chicago zoo was at the top of their list. I’m so happy they chose that because I know that on my own, I would have discarded that option. Spending a morning at the zoo made me feel like a kid again.


I have been dreading the sixties as if it was the plague. But now that I have reached them, I realize that nothing needs to change. Age is just a number. It’s how I feel deep inside that really counts. Therefore, who cares if I continue being carefree and immature. Well, maybe my hubby, but he’s put up with me for forty years so he can put up with me for another forty. 


Now that I have reached that conclusion, I can look forward with happy expectations and hope. After all, 60 is the new 40, so I can continue enjoying the summer of my life for a little longer. No need to get depressed because autumn has arrived. And just like Christopher, Jorge and Albert, I choose to live my life as though everything is a miracle.


Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.




Thursday, June 30, 2022

Hoping to Find my True Purpose

 “It is Jesus who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives.” St. John Paul II


I have always been a people pleaser. Years ago, I did a personality test and the result was that I am a peacemaker. This makes sense. In order to avoid conflict, I please everyone. The problem with this is that while I may be pleasing others, I am leaving myself out. Many times I have sacrificed my own goals in order to help others fulfill theirs. 


One of the things I’m realizing during this 3-month sabbatical that I’m taking from social media is that I have not always been true to myself. God created me for a purpose. As Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI reminds me: “Each of us is the result of a thought of God. Each of us is willed. Each of us is loved. Each of us is necessary.” If I’m necessary to God, He must have a mission for me. If I am always focused on pleasing others, I will never discover what God’s true purpose for me is. I am on a journey to discover what God wants from me at this moment in time. If I get distracted with constantly doing what other people want, instead of what God wants, I lose focus and therefore I lose sight of my own mission. 


Our purpose can change over time as our life evolves. When I was in school, my purpose was to study so I could graduate. Then my purpose became to get married and have a family. My children and husband then became my primary purpose. But now, my children are all grown up and living their life. My husband is still by my side, but he’s not my sole focus. I love him and I want to spend the rest of my life with him, but I know that he’s not my main purpose. I can feel deep inside that God has a bigger mission for me. 


I am turning 60 in a few days, and I have been asking myself, “what is my true purpose?” I know I only have a limited amount of time left here on earth so I want to make the most of my remaining years. I would like to leave my mark somehow, and leave my little corner of the world better than I found it. But in order to do so, I have to unite my goals to God’s plans for me. I hope that with the help of the Holy Spirit, I can respond to God with the confidence that what He desires for me is what my true purpose should be.


I hope that by taking this time off from all the social media distractions, I discover my true purpose. I know I’m not going to find it sitting around doing nothing. But hopefully, spending this time journaling and reading spiritual meditations, will allow me to reconnect with my inner self, and it will help me to see more clearly where God is leading me. 


I will probably continue pleasing others because it is who I am, but I am going to concentrate now in pleasing the One that really matters, and that is God. I know that if I align my goals with His plans for me, I will find my true purpose, and my mission will flourish without me getting exhausted or discouraged during the journey. And in the process, I hope I learn to always be true to myself.


Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.


Sunday, June 12, 2022

La abuelita de algodon

 ”Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.” Eleanor Roosevelt


There is a little old lady that I see on most of my morning walks around the golf course. She’s usually standing outside her house with her walker. She has the sweetest smile on her face. She always tells me “Buenos DĂ­as.” I have baptized her with the nickname “la abuelita de algodĂłn” (the cotton grandma). The reason is that she is always dressed in white and her hair is the color of cotton. I love seeing her. Her smile brightens up my day. 


Even though I don’t know anything about the cotton grandma, not even her name, seeing her gives me hope. She must be around ninety years old which means that she has seen a lot of heartache in her lifetime. She was alive during World War II, the Cold War, the Great Depression, the Holocaust, the Vietnam War, the assassination of President Kennedy, Watergate, and many of the horrors that took place during the twentieth century. She’s Hispanic, so she has to have endured at least one exile. Only God and her know how many tragedies she has experienced in her personal life. And yet, she’s always smiling. She has perfected the art of smiling with her eyes since she still wears a mask.


She reminds me a lot of my own grandmother. Physically, they don’t look anything alike. My grandmother was tall, she’s short. My grandmother dyed her hair, she doesn’t. My grandmother never wore pants, she always wears white pants. But there is something in her eyes that makes me think of my grandmother. I think it’s the kindness and wisdom that I see when she looks at me, smiles, and says “Buenos DĂ­as.”


My grandmother was born in 1910. She was a little girl during the Spanish flu. She went through her first exile in 1924 when she left her native Spain and moved to Cuba. She experienced two world wars, the Cuban Revolution when President Batista was overthrown from power, and then Communism. She had her second exile in 1972 when she returned to Spain, and her final one in 1974 when she moved to the United States. But through it all, she never lost her joy. She always had a kind word to share or a wise story to tell. If she was still alive, we would compare notes between the 1918 pandemic and the current one. I can close my eyes and picture her wearing a mask as an eight-year-old girl in northern Spain. 


Even though most of us are experiencing some kind of hardship either because of the pandemic, the economic crisis, illness, unemployment, or whatever we are going though, the old people in our lives should provide us with a sense of hope. They have seen tragedy at its worst. They have had to abandon their homelands. They have lived through war and disease. And yet, they still find a reason to smile. My own grandmother has been gone for almost 24 years, but I think she has sent me “la abuelita de algodon” so I can think of her every time I see her. This gives me hope that there is a brighter tomorrow waiting for all of us. I am full of hope that just like the cotton grandma and my own grandmother, I will find the strength to cope with whatever tomorrow brings.


Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.






Thursday, June 2, 2022

Disconnecting to Reconnect

 “The more in harmony with yourself you are, the more joyful you are and the more faithful you are. Faith is not to disconnect you from reality - it connects you to reality.” Paulo Coelho


I have decided to take a much needed sabbatical from social media. We don’t realize it but social media can become toxic. Even though I try to concentrate on just positive posts, it’s difficult to keep the negative completely out. I’ve been feeling lately like something is out of line in my life, and even though I’m not going to place the blame đŸ’Ż % on social media, it’s definitely not helping me. I’m spending way too much time with my eyes glued to my phone, surfing the social media pages. I hope that by disconnecting, I can reconnect with the things and the people that truly matter. 


Most of us use social media for one of three reasons:


The first one is to try to show the world that what we believe in is the right thing, and if you don’t agree with me then you are wrong. This could be about anything: religion, politics, the way we deal with the pandemic, gun control, abortion, how to bring up our kids, etc. The problem with using social media platforms to try to convince others that my point of view is the right one, it’s that since we are not seeing the other person face to face, we feel empowered to say things that we normally would not say to their face. We are not going to change anyone’s mind this way, therefore all we are accomplishing is getting angry and alienating others against us.


The second one is to show off. We share what an amazing trip we just had or what a beautiful wedding we attended or the awards that our kids received in school or… We show in social media all the amazing things that are happening in our life. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this, but the problem is that it gives everyone else a sense that my life is perfect when in reality no one’s life is completely perfect. We only show what we want the rest of the world to see. We share the photos of our idyllic trip, but if we had a huge fight during our trip or we caught a horrible stomach virus that made part of our trip not so great, we don’t share that. If our kids got an F or a detention, we don’t share that. We only mention the honor rolls and the straight As, to the point that it seems like everyone has perfect kids. Social media makes us look at others through rose colored glasses, and life is not always rosy.


The third reason is to share positive posts, jokes or prayers. This is actually my favorite. It’s neutral. Jokes make everyone laugh. We can all use some positivity in our lives. And when we are empowered to ask for prayers, it means that we really need them. But most people are too private to share their pain and suffering on social media. I for one was brought up under the assumption that nobody cares about anyone else’s problems so it’s best to keep them to myself. There is a gap within all of us between joy and pain. We all experience moments of happiness and moments of pain. Lately, this gap within me has become too wide. It’s time to close the gap, and I’m placing all my hope on this summer sabbatical. 


Therefore, for the next three months, I’m going to hit the “pause” bottom on my social media accounts. I will continue to share my blog posts when I’m inspired to write, but that’s it. I will not read or reply to any posts or comments. If you want to reach out, do so the old fashioned way. Phone calls or messages are welcome, but more than anything, I need your prayers so that I can once again feel the inner joy that has been evading me somehow. I hope this summer sabbatical will allow me to disconnect so I can reconnect with myself and God, that it will help me to focus more on my marriage and my family, and that it will help me find the insight that I’m seeking as to why I’m feeling a little out of line. I hope that you keep me in your prayers, and I promise to keep you in my prayers too. đŸ™đŸ„°đŸ™


Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Saturday, May 28, 2022

Clinging to Hope in the Midst of Pain

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6



Ellie was excited because she was going to read a verse at her church on Sunday. Now, instead, her father is trying to find the right words to explain to Ellie’s four sisters that Ellie is never coming home. How on earth do you explain to four little girls that their ten year-old sister has gone to heaven?


Ellie was one of the nineteen children killed in the horrible Uvalde tragedy this week. “The sweetest girl you’ve ever had the chance to meet. And I had the honor of being her father,” said Steven Garcia while in tears on a Today show interview. “Ellie loved basketball, TikTok and the colors pink and purple. She hoped to be a cheerleader and had already begun planning her quinceañera.” The family said she had already picked out her dress, even though it was five years away, and her father said they will buy it and hang it in her room.


Amerie Jo enjoyed drawing, performing science experiments and making people laugh. She wanted to become a YouTube star. “She was a real good student. Very playful, very silly,” dad Alfred Garza III said. “She was a perfect daughter.”


Garza went to the school when he heard about the shootings. He waited six hours for ten-year-old Amerie Jo, who was his only child. While he waited, he offered solace to kids who got out of the building. “They were just overwhelmed and crying, so as many as I could, I said to them: ‘Hey, do you know your mom, dad’s phone number? Let’s call them. Let’s have them know you’re OK,’” he said in the Today show interview. 


While he was waiting to hear news about his own little girl, he helped to ease other parents’ pain by letting them know that their child was alive. He pushed his own fears aside to offer those scared children a tiny glimmer of hope. 


No child should endure that sort of anguish, especially at such a tender age. It is hard enough for an adult to come to terms with such a gaping loss, let alone little ones, who are far too young and innocent to make any sense of how cruel life can be. 


The thought of these families’ suffering in the most agonizing of manners is just heartbreaking. How can we cling to hope in the midst of so much pain? The only way I can think of is by grabbing onto God. 


I have met many parents on my earthly journey that have lost a child. God-incidentally, I just met two of those parents at the beach today. I was in the water talking to my hubby in Spanish. A couple nearby said to us: “Que rica estĂĄ el agua hoy.” (The water is great today). We spent the next few minutes talking to them, and as we were leaving we introduced ourselves. When they told us their names, something clicked in my memory. I asked them if they were associated with “Hermanos al Rescate” (Brothers to the Rescue). Sure enough, their son Mario was one of the four pilots killed back in 1996 when their plane was shot down by the Castro regime in international airspace. He was only 24-years-old, the youngest of the four. How do you recover from losing a child so tragically? You don’t. But you can keep going with God’s help. Otherwise you would just crumble. 


I pray to God for the people of Uvalde, especially those families that lost a loved one. I pray for a hope that brings them healing. 


Please Lord, take their grief, fear and suffering in your capable hands. Place them near your heart; care for them, transform them—and us—while you’re at it, because we just don’t understand. How long, O Lord? How long will this last? When will you put an end to the suffering in our world?


Copyright © 2022 Christy Romero. All rights reserved.

Happy Easter

 “The fifty days from the Sunday of the Resurrection to Pentecost Sunday are celebrated in joy and exultation as one feast day, indeed as one ‘great Sunday.’ These are the days above all others in which the Alleluia is sung.” US Conference of Catholic Bishops 

If I were to wish you a happy Easter today, you would probably think that I was a little cuckoo. This is exactly what happened to our priest. He went to Publix and he told the cashier “Happy Easter.” He was dressed in regular clothes so she had no idea that he was a priest. She told him that he was a bit late in wishing her a happy Easter, to which he replied: “I’m not late. I’m Catholic.” She told him that it didn’t matter, Easter had already passed whether he was Catholic or Protestant. He took this as an opportunity for a teaching moment. He explained to her that we Catholics don’t celebrate Easter for just one day, we celebrate it for 50 days. Lent lasts 40 days, Easter lasts 50 days. How awesome is that. We have an entire Easter season that concludes on Pentecost, which happens to be derived from the Greek word “pentecoste” meaning fiftieth.


Why is Easter so important for us? A few reasons:


First, without Easter we wouldn’t have Catholicism. If Jesus had died but had not resurrected, we probably wouldn’t have even heard about Him. We would be Jewish or Muslims or Buddhists, but definitely not Catholics. Christianity would not exist because it began with Christ. He would have been just another prophet but not as popular as He is. The reason why we worship Him is not because He died. The reason why we follow Him and still talk about Him 2000 years later is because He resurrected. 


Second, without Easter we wouldn’t have Christmas. Yes, that’s right. Christmas is not about the gifts or shopping. It’s not about the tree or the decorations. It’s not about Santa or the reindeers. The reason why we celebrate Christmas is because Jesus was born and resurrected. If He had only been born but had not resurrected, we wouldn’t have Christmas. 


Third, Easter gives us hope in the promise of the victory. If Jesus had not resurrected, we all would be terrified of dying. I know many people that are still very much scared of dying, even though they are Catholics. If you are one of them, I ask you: “Why? What are you afraid of?” Jesus conquered death for all of us. By resurrecting and ascending to heaven fourty days later, He left us the promise of the victory over death. Death is not the end, it’s only the beginning. We are spiritual beings having a physical experience here on earth for just a few years. We are on a journey and our destination is heaven. We have no reason to fear death. We have to look at death as the door that will allow us entrance into eternal life.


Sometimes I ask myself: “What will Heaven be like?” I picture it as a beautiful garden, full of flowers and all types of animals. The animals are not dangerous, they are all friendly, even the lions and the tigers. If Heaven has a scent, I hope it smells like chocolate, since in my imaginary Heaven there will not be any food. We will be nourished by love, not by physical food. I have often dreamt of my arrival to Heaven. All the people I have known in this lifetime who have left before me will be standing at the gates of Heaven to welcome me and hug me. At the end of this very long receiving line, the King and the Queen of Heaven will be ready to greet me. What will I do when I’m in their presence? I think that I will fall on my knees and bow before them. But the Queen will grab me, hug me and tell me: “I am not your queen, I am your Mother. Welcome Home my dear child.” Then, she will introduce me to her Son: “This is my beloved Son who gave His life for you.” And I will hug the King of Heaven, and ask for His forgiveness. And in the most loving voice that I have ever heard, He will say to me: “Welcome Home dear Christy. I have known you and loved you since before you were born. Your sins have been forgiven. Come with me and I will show you the place I have prepared for you. It is called ‘Eternal Paradise.’ Here, you will never feel pain or anguish again. Here, you will only rejoice. Your tears will not be of sadness but of joy.” He will take me by the hand and lead me to my forever dwelling place, where angels and saints will be my neighbors. 


Whenever I feel anxious or sad, all I have to do is close my eyes and dream of this Heaven that lives in my imagination. I have no doubt that my dream does not even come close to the reality because I know that it will be infinitely better than my limited imagination. There is not the slightest wonder in my mind that Heaven exceeds the most amazing place that we have ever visited.


I am not afraid of death because of Easter. This does not mean that I want to die tomorrow. I hope I don’t. I hope I still have another 20, 30 or 40 years left on this journey so that I can enjoy time with my hubby, children and grandchildren. I hope I even get to meet my great-grandchildren. I am looking forward to traveling extensively once I retire. I have many plans and I hope to enjoy every single day that I have left here on earth to the fullest. But when my expiration date arrives, I will not be afraid. And I hope that you will not live with fear of dying. Hold onto the very real hope that Jesus left us with Easter: we are not alone, He loves us, and there is a future with Him that goes beyond death. We are an Easter people and Aleluya is our song.


We still have one week left before Pentecost Sunday, therefore we can still say outloud: “Happy Easter!!!”