I gave myself a few nice little presents for Easter this year, each one better than the ears off a chocolate bunny. Let me tell you about them because they might inspire similar gifts you could give yourself, and it doesn’t have to be a holiday.
First, I gave myself 30 days off Facebook. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and when I got up this morning and saw atheist trolls bullying Christianity on Easter, I knew it was the perfect day. I’ve always said that the bug that allows Facebook users to see what their friends are “liking” and commenting on elsewhere, even if their friends don’t actually share it, is a bad bug. Well, an old friend of mine was commenting on atheist pages, which caused me to be able to see these horrible things. It was bad. Stupid blasphemy in my feed. The only thing worse is when religious people try to force others to practice their religion.
So I activated an app in my PC that will block me from logging on to Facebook until noon on May 1. And I deleted the app from my phone. I’m out for the first time in 9 years. Feels better already.
Second, I wrote a poem for Easter. Here it is. This poem is for my Mom and Dad.
The universe is confusing.
I’m trying to see the next right thing
and light goes off on a tangent.
Then there’s paradox: Truth
is always two things or many things
all real, all believable
or nothing all at once.
Why is there so much water
all around and so many things
that can’t breathe it? Why haven’t
dogs learned to talk yet?
What is Time, falling and flowing
and standing in puddles that reflect
the face of an infinite grief?
How could God make something
so soft and weak and full
of wet fragility and selfish hope,
so many of us all alike, then
love each and every one unto
death and into Eternity?
Look, there comes sunrise now
and flowers, spring sempiternal
as the planet spins, dragged
through the void by a star
fleeing everything, bound for nowhere.
We ought to be grateful for the ride,
whatever we are, born on our way
to somewhere else.
J. Kyle Kimberlin
Creative Commons Licensed
Third, I used part of my Easter free time to draw a picture of a tree. I haven’t tried to draw a tree since art class in junior high school, in 1974. But I remember I liked doing it. I remember the art teacher, Mr. Hinton, came to my piano recital. Which was a pretty damn nice thing for a teacher to do in his free time. Nice guy.
It’s a humble tree- it’s bottom-heavy and it needs a lot more leaves – but not terrible for the first try in 44 years. I enjoyed it so I’ll probably do it again and get better at it, right? Just like with writing, practice makes possible. And if at first you don’t succeed, skydiving probably isn’t for you.
Christ is Risen.