Easter weekend promised to be more of a remnant of sadness, grief and clouds due to all that had and was transpiring before the Christian celebration. The Nashville killings continued to be the media focus with gun control and mental illness being the primary agents of cause. Then the weather seemed to join forces with the layers of grief, using the gray skies, thunder and torrential rains to visibly demonstrate what was happening in so many hearts.

It was a relief to see the rains taking a break Easter morning, but the chilling winds made me dress in layers for the sunrise service that our church was observing. An occasional light mist seemed to taunt the idea of sunrise as worshipers headed to celebrate the true Son-rise.

I was grateful to sing of a risen Savior and remember that triumphal event that happened so long ago but still brought so much joy to the Christian hearts. It was a timeless event and would eternally reach into each today regardless of how long the King of Kings would be in making His return.

We left that service with overflowing joy in spite of the clouds that refused to release the sun. More worship time in our sanctuary with huge attendance accelerated our joy in celebrating power over death and victory over the grave.

By mid-afternoon the sky finally displayed an Easter celebration. The sun took its rightful place, and our refreshed minds were more directed to the day’s blessings than to the past week’s losses and grief.

Monday morning greeted us with renewed hope and sunny forecasts. Then the news broke — at least five people were killed in a mass shooting at a bank in Louisville, Kentucky. Is this to be a weekly ritual that no longer takes us by surprise? Is it an impending sign that the day of the Lord’s return is near? How are we to live in such turbulent times — global unrest and threats, senseless mass murders?

The sound of birds singing outside our window held the answer to a lot of my questions. Then a hymn that held immense comfort and assurance turned my thoughts to more strength — “Because He lives, I can face tomorrow; because He lives all fear is gone, because . . .!”

Letters to Camille Anding may be sent to P.O. Box 551, Brookhaven, MS 39602.