The day after Easter is not unlike the day after Christmas. For those who are fortunate enough to have it off, — and once upon a time, many, many people did — it’s a day of recovery, reflections, and reconnoitering.
A Day of Recovery
I have been recovering from two celebrations — Easter and my birthday —a couple of experiences that COVID had altered.
Family — food —yes; but also crowded, corporate worship — more crowded that even pre-Covid worship. Yes, I still mask up in crowds.
A Day of Reflection
The day after Easter has certainly been one for reflection — Horrors in Ukraine — and elsewhere.

Kintsugi: a way of mending broken pottery with gold
Having the time to reflect on what I heard in yesterday’s sermons was quite a help. Even ten years ago I could not have heard such a sampling.*
Philip Yancey’s book, Soul Survivor, is a timely counselor —when worrying and whinging seem the only two notes I sing.
“But should not atheists have an equal obligation to explain the origin of pleasure in a world of randomness and meaninglessness?”(page 54)
Finally, today, I have reflected on the excitement an old friend shared over our sumptuous Easter meal. She recently celebrated her 93rd birthday, and loved telling us about being able to read the Bible with friends at her senior citizen center. Joy can come in all ages and stages . . .
But NOT a day for Reconnoitering
Now, honestly, reconnoitering was what I did not do this day after Easter. The weather put the brakes on gardening — who knows for how long?
I am thinking about the hope believing in God enables, and a simple poem:
Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world around me;
And with tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?
(G.K. Chesterton, quoted in Soul Survivor, page 53)

P.S. When I confided my age to a young grandchild, their eyes got wide; their brow furrowed, and they exclaimed: Oh! Mimi — you are old!
*Here are links to the two sermons– take a listen
Belated birthday greetings, my dear friend! Tell your grandchildren that Mimi counts blessings, not years!
Good reply –and so true.