I am confused.  It is Easter Sunday today; yet I really don't know which way to turn.

My kids are all excited:  the Easter bunny is about to make his annual "hippety-hop" journey, leaving brightly-hued eggs for all the good little boys and girls (plus delicious chocolate candies, jellybeans, and other goodies), and yet, somehow, as I watch my husband and kids laughing as they wait for the arrival of the Easter bunny, I feel that something is missing, something important.

It all started when my friend, Louisiana Sandusky, asked me over a week ago, to see if we were going to church for "Resurrection Sunday" services.  I told her I didn't know; I would have to think about it first.

See, I have never been a church-going person.  Oh, I believe in God (or at least, I think I do); it's just that my feeling is this:  you don't have to go to church in order to love God.  All you have to do is do good works, or obey Him, and He will be happy.

I also think that a lot of church-going people are hypocrites.  You see them on Sundays, wearing their finest clothes (and toting their Bibles), acting all "holy" during worship time, and the next day (or for days afterwards), you see them talking about "who did what" or going to the neighborhood bar for a drink.

Louisiana knew my feelings about church (or church people) as a whole; yet she never forced the issue with me, which I greatly appreciated.  Instead, Louisiana said she'd keep me in her prayers, and if she wanted to talk to me (or I with her), she'd make herself available the best way she could.

I seemed to forget about the approaching Easter holiday--that is, until the other day, when I'd seen a reminder in last Sunday's paper, which I was going to toss out in the garbage.  For some reason, I never did; it was still sitting on the kitchen cabinet, by the toaster.

There were the ads for the upcoming Easter services at various churches in the Nashville metropolitan area.  Baptist.  Catholic.  Mormon.  Pentecostal.  Assembly of God.  Protestant.  Greek or Russian Orthodox.  Jewish.  Church of God.  Unitarian.  Free Thinking.  All different faiths; yet they were still going to celebrate Easter, celebrate a risen Saviour (or whatever they celebrated). 

I decided then I'd go to a service, but where:  that was the next order of business to figure out.

I started thinking about Louisiana Sandusky.  She'd been so nice to me in the past; she'd made the attempt for me to come to church; yet I'd always relented, made excuses.  Maybe I'd go to her church, Christ Community Assembly of God, for Easter services.  It couldn't hurt, I kept thinking.

They weren't just having services on Easter morning at Christ Community Assembly of God, as I later found out:  they were having a service on Maundy Thursday (the Thursday before Easter, the day before Good Friday), another one on Good Friday, two on Saturday (both in the afternoon), and three services on Sunday (Easter, or as they called it, "Resurrection Sunday"), for a total of seven special services. 

Anybody of all faiths, rich or poor, black, red, yellow, white, brown, or tan, or young and old, was welcome to join in the Resurrection Sunday/Easter services.

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I went yesterday.  Today we were going to go to see Mother for Easter.  Mother lives in an "assisted living" facility not far from our place.  Mother is 88 years old; other than some mild dementia, she is in very good health.  Saturday seemed like the better day to visit my friend's church.

Yesterday, as promised, I, my two daughters (ages 8 and 6), my son (aged 10), and my husband went to Christ Community Assembly of God Church, to see this special Easter production my friend Louisiana Sandusky was gushing about.

When we stepped into the spacious foyer of the building, we were made to feel welcome; it put me at ease, but at the same time, I was nervous.  I was hoping none of the people could tell that I wasn't a regular church goer; I didn't want them to think badly of me.

We then went to the sanctuary, where a lady at the door handed us a program of the production, and we were led to our seats by a well-dressed young man.  We were sitting by the front; it looked like there was going to be a good turnout.

*End of part one.*