I've been preparing for worship on Sunday. It's Eas...er, Resurrection Sunday. I almost said Easter. But I couldn't care less if it was Easter. I care that it's Resurrection Sunday. I care nothing about the goddess Eastre or Eostre or whichever way the Germans spelled it. I do care about Passover, which happened in this season. And I care about the day the earth darkened after His death. I care about the three days. I don't care about pastel paints, Easter eggs or neon-colored bunnies. (Sorry.) I do care about chocolate--but that's a different subject. And I really, really care about Resurrection Sunday. The truth and depth of what this day represents changed my life. Without this day, I would still be hurt, angry, melancholy, alone and bitter. When I actually received and embraced what He did as LOVE demonstrated for me, to me, in spite of me... it broke me, melted me, and changed me forever.