Dear Little Girl…When Easter Doesn’t Feel Joyful (Finding God in the Quiet)

Dear Little Girl,

Easter came…
And it didn’t look like you thought it would, did it?

It was quieter.
A little heavier.
Not wrapped in bows or baskets or perfect traditions.

There was tension.
There was uncertainty.
There were pieces of your heart pulled in different directions.

And part of you wondered…
“Did I miss it?”

I want you to know something.

Easter was never meant to be perfect.
It was never meant to be polished or easy or light.

It was born out of grief.
Out of confusion.
Out of watching something you love suffer… and not being able to stop it.

Mary stood and watched her son carry a cross.
She didn’t understand it.
She couldn’t fix it.
She couldn’t make it stop.

And still… God was there.

You felt that this week, didn’t you?

In the loss.
In the conversations.
In the tension that rose up around you.
In the moment you chose to speak truth instead of staying quiet.

That mattered.

You didn’t shrink.
You didn’t ignore what your body was telling you.
You said, “This is not okay.”

And you said it with strength… not anger.

That is growth.
That is healing.
That is Me in you.

And then there were the moments where you felt the weight of someone else’s fear…
their uncertainty…
their unspoken questions about what comes next.

You don’t have to fix it.
You don’t have to carry it.

You just have to love.

To be steady.
To be present.
To let your peace speak louder than your words.

I know it felt different.

Some of your people weren’t there.
The traditions didn’t unfold the way they used to.
Things felt… off.

But don’t miss this:

This quiet?
It’s not empty.

It’s sacred.

Because resurrection doesn’t always come with trumpets.

Sometimes…
It comes in a boundary spoken.
In a softened heart.
In choosing love without losing yourself.
In showing up when things aren’t perfect.

You didn’t miss Easter.

You lived it.

So today…
Release what isn’t yours to carry.
Love what is in front of you.
And trust that even here— In the quiet, in the messy, in the ordinary—

He is risen.
And He is rising in you too.

Love,
God

Dear Little Girl…God Is in the Ordinary (Easter Edition)

Dear Little Girl,

You thought resurrection would feel bigger.

Louder.
Clearer.
More obvious.

But here you are…
on Easter morning, a little tired, a little foggy,
trying to find your footing after a full few days.

And I want you to notice something.

You’re still here.
Still talking to Me.
Still soft.
Still open.

That is resurrection too.

You stood this past week and honored someone you loved.

You showed up when it mattered.
You spoke the words.
You felt the weight of it… and the beauty.

And then…

You laughed with your sister.
You saw her differently.
You softened toward her in a way you hadn’t before.

That shift?

That is Me.

Not just in the prayer you spoke…
but in the way your heart changed afterward.

You are beginning to understand something that will set you free:

Not everything is yours to carry.

Not every situation is yours to fix.
Not every storm is yours to step into.

You can love…
without losing yourself.

You can care…
without controlling the outcome.

You can say,
“This is not mine to solve,”
and still be deeply compassionate.

That is growth.
That is healing.
That is Me in you.

And today…

You feel a little off.

Maybe it’s the emotions.
Maybe it’s the exhaustion.
Maybe it’s Will leaving for the summer.

But you wonder quietly,
“Where are You in this?”

I’m right here.

In the quiet drive.
In the studio.
In the little ones running toward you.

In the laughter around your table.
In the memories that still take your breath away.

Those moments?

They are not random.

They are reminders of My goodness.

You read it this morning and it stayed with you:

Celebration at its very best is a response to God’s goodness… not a reward for our own.

Yes.

That feeling when your dancers move closer and closer to you…
That moment when your boys are all together, laughing, alive, home…

You didn’t earn that.

That is My goodness.

And today, we celebrate Easter.

Not just that I died.
Not just that I rose.

But that I am still rising.

In you.

In your softened heart.
In your new perspective.
In your ability to see differently today than you did yesterday.

Resurrection is not just a moment in history.

It is happening in your life.

Right now.

So don’t miss it.

Don’t rush past it.

Don’t wait for something bigger to believe I’m here.

The ordinary moments that take your breath away…

That’s where I live.

Love,
God