Easter
Quotes - You ought to make something for Easter
“Life
is the march of all things resurrected and being resurrected. Behind each
flower, every tree, each nesting bird, every breath that we take, and every
cherished dream that we hold there runs this irrepressible theme of
resurrection. For life is not so shallow or weak or inattentive as to permit
the finality of an end.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“Christ
was crucified on the cross in Calvary.”
―
Lailah Gifty Akita
“Serving
someone in the most sacrificial way possible is to willingly place ourselves in
a position where we may need to be saved from those that we serve, while
determining that we will forgo any such saving.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“Christian
holiness consists not of trying as hard as we can to be good but of learning to
live in the new world created by Easter, the new world we publicly entered in
our baptism.”
―
N.T. Wright, Surprised by Hope: Rethinking Heaven, the Resurrection, and the
Mission of the Church
“May
Easter blessing rest at your feet. May your heart be uplifting at the start of
a brand new day. May this brand new awakening carry you through each and every
day, with uplifting thoughts in your heart. May each and everything that ever
hurt your heart be washed away forever. In Jesus name. Amen.”
―
Ron Baratono
“We
ask that streams of Easter light might flow into the intimacy and privacy of
our hearts this morning, to heal us and encourage us and enable us to make
again a new beginning.”
―
John O'Donohue, Walking in Wonder: Eternal Wisdom for a Modern World
“Easter
is the one morning in all of history where the dawn came twice; once on the
eastern horizon and again in eternity.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“You
ought to make something for Easter. You know. Eggs and stuff. Chocolate hens,
rabbits, things like that. Like the shops in Agen." I remember them from
my childhood; the Paris chocolateries with their baskets of foil-wrapped eggs,
shelves of rabbits and hens, bells, marzipan fruits and marrons glacés,
amourettes and filigree nests filled with petits fours and caramels, and a
thousand and one epiphanies of spun-sugar magic carpet rides more suited to an
Arabian harem than the solemnities of the Passion.
"I
remember my mother telling me about the Easter chocolates." There was
never enough money to buy those exquisite things, but I always had my own
cornet-surprise, a paper cone containing my Easter gifts, coins, paper flowers,
hard-boiled eggs painted in bright enamel colors, a box of colored
papier-mâché- painted with chickens, bunnies, smiling children among the
buttercups, the same every year and stored carefully for the next time-
encasing a tiny packet of chocolate raisins wrapped in cellophane, each one to
be savored, long and lingeringly, in the lost hours of those strange nights
between cities, with the neon glow of hotel signs blink-blinking between the
shutters and my mother's breathing, slow and somehow eternal, in the umbrous
silence.”
―
Joanne Harris, Chocolat
“To
believe in the story of Easter is to believe that a wall is nothing more than a
door in disguise.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“Has
my life been cheated by the shortness of the time afforded me, or is it
possible that the greater part of my life has been saved for a time where there
is no time?”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“If
I can’t find something worthwhile in my own reflection, how am I ever going to
see anything worthwhile in the face of another? Maybe I can solve all of this
by seeing the face of Jesus in everyone, starting with myself.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“It
was at the point where I was convinced of my own death that God finally
convinced me of His life. And I stand amazed that my death birthed His life.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“God
reached in because I had so thoroughly destroyed my life that I could not find
a single gap in the carnage through which I could reach out.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“Jesus
was buried in a borrowed tomb because He was planning on returning it to its rightful
owner after a short weekend.”
―
Craig D. Lounsbrough
“I
spent most of the afternoon tempering the new batch of couverture and working
on the window display. A thick covering of green tissue paper for the grass.
Paper flowers- daffodils and daisies, Anouk's contribution- pinned to the
window frame. Green-covered tins that had once contained cocoa powder, stacked
up against each other to make a craggy mountainside. Crinkly cellophane paper
wraps it like a covering of ice. Running past and winding into the valley, a
river of blue silk ribbon, upon which a cluster of houseboats sits quiet and
unreflecting. And below, a procession of chocolate figures, cats, dogs,
rabbits, some with raisin eyes, pink marzipan ears, tails made of
licorice-whips, with sugar flowers between their teeth... And mice. On every
available surface, mice. Running up the sides of the hill, nestling in corners,
even on the riverboats. Pink and white sugar coconut mice, chocolate mice of
all colors, variegated mice marbled through with truffle and maraschino cream,
delicately tinted mice, sugar-dappled frosted mice. And standing above them,
the Pied Piper resplendent in his red and yellow, a barley-sugar flute in one
hand, his hat in the other. I have hundreds of molds in my kitchen, thin
plastic ones for the eggs and the figures, ceramic ones for the cameos and
liqueur chocolates. With them I can re-create any facial expression and
superimpose it upon a hollow shell, adding hair and detail with a narrow-gauge
pipe, building up torso and limbs in separate pieces and fixing them in place
with wires and melted chocolate.... A little camouflage- a red cloak, rolled
from marzipan. A tunic, a hat of the same material, a long feather brushing the
ground at his booted feet. My Pied Piper looks a little like Roux, with his red
hair and motley garb.”
―
Joanne Harris, Chocolat
