Easter Sunrise Service in Powell, Tennessee

I am in a nice, warm bed, I awake to the bedroom light, to see my wife getting dressed in her best "goin' out" clothes. "We're going to the sunrise Easter service this morning", she says. The Easter sunrise service has been somewhat of a tradition for Luchrisa and I for about 10 years or so; we'd been going since we lived in the trailer park in Powell.

Dammit, I've just worked a brutal 6-day week, and am facing another one. Even if it involved fishing, I most definitely did not feel like getting up this cold 40 degree morning to go sit in the cemetery before the sun came up. Also, I hadn't been to church regularly in several years, mainly because we've been so disgusted with them lately (the ones in our area tend to be more like cliquish, Sunday morning social clubs), so I wasn't exactly enthused about not getting to sleep in before jumping headfirst into the brutality that awaits me at the warehouse tomorrow.

But, I love my beautiful Luchrisa, and also, we have both Kassie and Ariel with us this weekend, and although we've taken them to church many times in the past, they've never been to an Easter sunrise service (we never kept them on Easter weekend before). Even waking up in a downright NASTY mood was not enough to make me want to miss out on being a part of this milestone for our girls.

After getting dressed, we all piled into the Eclipse and headed out towards the cemetery on Bell Campground Road in Powell. It was still so dark and cold when we arrived, parked among the other cars waiting for somebody to open the gates. Around 6:45, pastor Brian Kerns (of one of our former churches, Lighthouse Christian) arrived to let us all in. We drove our newly-detailed Eclipse up the long gravel road to the little pavillion atop the hill overlooking the vast sea of marble headstones.

My wife's ankles were especially sore this morning, so it was rather slow going as Ariel and I helped her climb the hill to the pavillion. When I murmered something about how bad I "just wanna get this over with", my wife snapped back "You shoulda just stayed home!", but as much as I disliked being up in a cold, dark cemetery at a quarter to seven in the morning at 40 degrees, I knew I still wanted to be part of this service, especially since we missed last year's service when we forgot to set our alarm.

The pavillion is but a high mansard-style roof atop eight thick pilings impregnated with tar, much like telephone poles. The halogen lights atop the power poles in the cemetery gave enough light for the pastors to connect any electricity they might need to the old timey fusebox that looked like it might've been a prop from "The Waltons". The seating was a row of donated old wooden church pews flanked on either side by a row of rustic benches made from split logs, graying from age and the elements. The four of us chose a pew right in the dead center of the seating area, then huddled together for warmth.

Brian Kern, one of our former pastors, recognized us, and came over to shake our hands and talk to us. We really like Brian; he preaches to people like they have souls AND BRAINS! He wasn't the reason we stopped going to Lighthouse; the congregation there made it clear to us that, after 3 years of attendence; childless couples didn't quite "fit in" with all the other mini-van driving soccer mommies! I reckon our necks were just a little too red for 'em, eh?

After the opening prayer and hymn, I was waking up and my mood started to brighten. At about 7:15, the first glimpse of sun peeked over the top of Beaver Ridge, waking the birds into their glorious morning song. By the time the sermon was preached (based on, of course, the twentieth chapter in the Gospel of John), I had realized that as uncomfortable and inconvenient as it was for me to be out of bed this morning, I was so happy that I got to be with my wife and our beautiful first-born neices on such a lovely morning.

Yes, the rolling green hills and silver marble headstones shone beautifully in the morning sun, and I got to share it with the people who mean more to me than my own life!

Lord Jesus, I want to ask you AGAIN to forgive this ol' labor monkey for whining and cussing under his breath about coming out in the cold to honor you! What you did so a son of a bitch like me may go to heaven (hopefully) was more selfless than I could ever be, and I cannot even FATHOM the degree of pain and suffering you endured for me (for ALL of us!). I feel like such a heel that I didn't want to endure 45 minutes in the cold for you (sometimes I am such a wuss!).

That was the lesson we hope to have imparted on our girls right there! My Lord Jesus took humiliation, beating, torture, and a criminal's execution, because God the Father knew I could NEVER be good enough to work my way into Heaven, so the VERY least I could do is get up early, listen to the Good News, and watch the beauty He created for us unfold under a rising sun, in wonderful sight and sound, in a bucolic place where other Faithful have departed before us, awiting the Great Reunion. Please have mercy on me, Lord Jesus, and Thank you!

Happy Easter, everybody!