Scenes from a Sunday morning.

Easter dawned dark with an angry sky and an angrier wind. Some of the 30 of us gathered along the shores of Lake Michigan were wrapped in blankets by the time the service began at 7 a.m. Some wore gloves and scarves. Others didn't even bring coats.


But as we stood huddled together in a circle, singing songs of praise about the miracle of Easter, the sky began to soften. The sun fought through the clouds.


And it wasn't really that cold any more.



Light overcoming dark. Warm replacing winter. Rebirth defeating death. It was a fitting metaphor for an Easter morning.

The seagulls were squawking. (Was our singing THAT bad?)


The sun won. And by the time the service was done and we were headed to church for breakfast to finish the rest of a long day of services, it was radiant outside. And our prayer flags flapped in the breeze inviting people in.


Inside, light streamed through the windows.


The flowers smelled like spring.


And we were so, so happy.