The Shell Of Many Colors
“He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay.”
(Matt., 28:6, ESV).
This past Good Friday I had my son with me for an overnight visit. Being a now divorced dad, there are many challenges that naturally come up, but one very important one is how our autistic son will be supported in his Christian faith. For my part, I have sought out a new church with a special needs ministry that we could attend together, try to keep up with Bible reading when we can, and of course celebrate the holidays.
For a change, I decided to attempt coloring Easter eggs with him on my own for the first time. It might not seem to be any big deal to parents of typical kids, but in our house doing something as trivial as coloring easter eggs can be a big job. While I know my son understands what coloring Easter eggs is over all of these years, he still struggles with the motor control to independently control and dip the eggs, and of course he deals with sensory issues which encourage him to want to stick his hands in and splash the water. But I still felt it was an important bonding activity for the two of us, so I purchased the eggs and the kit, set up everything as orderly and neatly as I could, and we endeavored to color some eggs. Since he is non-verbal, I also set up his Ipad with his communication app next to the setup, so that he could tell me what colors he wanted to use. When it was all ready and I called him over to the table, I of course took the obligatory picture of him pointing to the colors that he liked best.
An activity like this could truthfully be pretty quick, as I just ask my son the colors he likes, assist him in dipping them into the coloring, and lay them down to dry, simple. But as people of faith, I want him to know that this is about more than just doing something fun. The eggs represent rebirth and new life, and more specifically the act of Jesus coming out of the tomb on Resurrection Sunday. I paused to reflect though on what this meant for me and my son doing this together, as that visual of emerging from the egg had bigger connotations in that moment. I thought about this hopefully being the beginning of the end of the covid pandemic, and our whole population coming out of quarantine. I also thought about my son’s own condition as a non verbal child, and how him being able to use his device to communicate his wants was also a way of him coming out of the shell of his speech impediment.
Watching the eggs dry, I gazed as the wet colors settled on the shells, forming their intricate swirls and patterns, contemplating their uniqueness. Just like each one of those eggs, they are unique and beautiful in their own way, manifesting the colors of God’s love, wrapping around the hardened shells of doubt and fear. It is a wonderful reminder that everything can change in the blink of an eye, as soon the shells will break, and the tomb will open, revealing the glory that was hidden inside.
Written by John Felageller
Follow John on his website: www.johnfelageller.com
