Welcome to the blog of author Marlo Schalesky!

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Is Easter About Bunnies After All?

Hi Friends,

This Easter I wanted to share a little story about my bunny, Felicia, and what she taught me about God and his love. Enjoy ...

It’s Easter time, and I hold a tiny bunny against my shoulder. I feel her soft fur on my skin, her nose twitching. She wiggles and climbs higher until her cheek is pressed into mine, her face so close that she can smell my breath. She breathes in, relaxes. Her heart beats with mine. My eyes close. I think hers do too.
            And I know, somehow, this is a divine moment. There is beauty and wonder and the presence of God himself. 
            Because this is how God loves me.
            And I think that maybe, just maybe, Easter is about bunnies after all.
            I whisper in her ear and remember where she came from. She was found cold and shivering in a tiny burrow in someone’s backyard. A little baby bunny with a few lion-hairs sticking from between her big ears and mud obscuring her white-and-brown fur. She huddled abandoned and alone, much too young to be without her mother. But her mother was no where to be found. 
            She would have died there.
            But then, a hand reached into her burrow, a hand bigger than she was. She trembled, cowered to the far side of the dirt and rock. She almost bit the hand, almost drew blood. But fingers closed gently around her, and the hand brought her out of hiding and into the light. 
The hand rescued her. 
            And now, after a trip to the rabbit rescue center, to an adoption event at the pet store, and to my home, a hand holds her close. 
            She’s not alone anymore. She’s been adopted. She has all the food she wants, a safe place to live, a clean home, and much love. She no longer cowers in the back of burrows. She doesn’t need to be afraid. Instead, she’s growing, exploring, and breathing deeply from the breath of the one who loves her.
            And as I hold her close, I am reminded of what God has done for me, and the deepest yearnings of my heart. I, too, have been rescued, and now I long to be so close that I can smell the breath of God, feel his heartbeat, and soak in his love for me. 
            I, too, was alone. I was afraid. I would have died there in my burrow, in my sin. But then hands reached out; nailed hands reached out on a wooden cross. They found me, brought me into the light. I was rescued, cared for, adopted into the family of God.
            Ephesians 2:1, 4-7 (NIV) says, “As for you, you were dead in your transgressions and sins... But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ ... And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that ... he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.”
            This Easter as I hold my baby bunny in my arms, her face close to mine, I think about Jesus, his arms stretched wide. I think of his blood shed for me. I think of my sin covering me like mud from a hovel and how that scarred hand came into my dark burrow and rescued me. I soak in the truth of how it brought me into the light, surrounded me with love, and now holds me close to his heart.
            This is what he died for, this is why he rose. 
            I am the Easter bunny, rescued, adopted, and held close to the beating heart, the warm breath, of the God who loves me enough to make me his own, no matter the cost.
            Now, when I see all the stuffed rabbits in the stores, the pictures of bunnies and baskets, the chocolates shaped like rabbits with long ears, I think of my baby bunny and I am reminded anew of the amazing love of the God who died and rose again to make me his own.
            I am reminded to climb up closer, nearer, and put my cheek on his, close my eyes, and breath deeply. 
            I am loved that much.