Rev. Kat Carroll
About a 2 minute read
For those finding this article on Sunday, April 5th, Happy Easter!
I wanted to share some thoughts with you today. There’s something about this time of year that feels different.
Call it Easter.
Call it resurrection.
Call it renewal.
Perhaps even a reset for the soul.
Whatever name we give it, there is a quiet invitation woven into the season itself…
to rise.
Not in some distant, unreachable way—but here, now, in the small, human moments of our lives.
We see it in nature all around us. What once seemed dormant begins to stir. What appeared still begins to move. What looked finished… wasn’t.
And maybe that same pattern, or recipe for success, lives within us, waiting for the right ingredients.
Unleavened bread does not rise. And we’re not dough—
but we can rise too (emotionally and spiritually speaking).
In baking, it only takes a small amount of leaven to transform the whole. It works quietly, unseen, expanding from within until what was once dense and heavy becomes lighter, fuller… alive.
What if love works the same way?
Not forced or loud. Not performative.
But steady, present… and alive within us.
There is a deeper layer to this idea of rising, one that has been with us far longer than any season.
Jesus spoke of love not as a feeling, but as something lived:
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”
This kind of love isn’t passive. It’s not just warmth or sentiment.
It’s action and e-motion... Energy in motion.
A willingness to carry one another through difficult moments.
To forgive, even when it’s not easy.
To serve, without needing recognition.
A love that binds—not through agreement, but through shared humanity.
We see it echoed in the call to bear one another’s burdens… to extend grace… to walk alongside one another with humility.
And then there’s something quietly profound hidden in language itself.
Ecclesiastes - The Greek word ekklesia—often translated as “church”—means simply this:
a gathering… an assembly.
Not a building or an institution. But people.
Which means when we gather with intention, with presence, with open hearts…
we are the church.
And what we bring into that space matters.
Because the world we experience is not only something we observe. It’s something we participate in creating. We are sensing a new vibration… a refreshed frequency moving through us.
Moment by moment, and choice by choice.
When we bring compassion… patience… forgiveness... understanding…
Something begins to shift.
Not all at once. Not everywhere.
But enough to be noticed, as it appears to be this year.
And like a soft musical note, the vibration is still spreading.
Enough to change the atmosphere in a room.
Enough to soften a hardened moment.
Enough to remind someone they are not alone.
We’ve been singing this truth for generations.
“He ain’t heavy… he’s my brother.”
“Lean on me… when you’re not strong.”
Different voices. Different times; but the same message. And we need to be reminded from time to time.
We were never meant to carry life alone. And when we carry each other…
the weight becomes lighter.
Not because the burden disappears—
but because love changes how it’s held.
Many are feeling something shifting now.
Emotionally. Energetically.
A sense that something is unfolding beneath the surface of things.
In the 21st century vernacular, some call it awakening. Some call it ascension.
Maybe… it’s simply remembering who we really are.
Remembering who we are beyond the noise.
Beyond the division.
Beyond the stories that tell us we are separate.
Beyond the physical body...
If love is the leaven… then every moment we choose it, we help the whole world rise.
We may not always see the change as it’s happening.
But something is rising—
within us…
and through us.
And perhaps resurrection was never meant to be a single profound moment in history, but a living principle, a pattern, and a real possibility for ALL humanity.
[caption id="attachment_108054" align="alignright" width="253"] Eucharist-Thanksgiving to God and Christ[/caption]
As you break bread together with family and friends for Easter, may you enjoy the warmth of love, hearth and home... And the wonderful scent of baking bread!
Don’t loaf around! Share your love...
and help everyone rise together.
Dedicated to my mom, who is always rising to the occasion!
http://dlvr.it/TRtK5z
