You have a zombie in your Easter basket, and it’s eating your chocolate eggs. Not exactly what you were expecting to hear going into Resurrection Sunday weekend. More like Halloween.
One of my favorite television series right now is The Walking Dead. If you’re already thinking, Great, another post about zombies, don’t leave just yet. Instead of walking dead things, let’s talk about waking dead things, about resurrecting and restoring the vibrancy that has died in us. For dead places are eating away at the sweetness of life.
We All Face Zombies
The background story line of The Walking Dead series is on target with the reality we all live in. The world is in a constant state of decay. Nobody is without problems. We all must face the hard truth that life doesn’t always turn out the way we had planned, even for those who appear to have it all.
Sooner or later the zombies of this world will come scratching at your door. Anger. Resentment. Depression. Fallout from wayward children. Financial woes. The past. All reaching their spindly fingers toward us to suck our lives dry.
Our initial response to these ugly creatures is to deny what is happening to us, pretend they don’t exist, or wish them away. But what needs to happen is calling them what they are. Square up and face them head on.
In no way do I want to downplay hardship and write this off as some horror flick survival pep talk. These are very real, painful situations. And many people, maybe even you or a loved one, are fighting against zombies of another kind—a physical, soul-empty disease literally eating away at living tissue, stealing life from the inside out.
In one form or another, zombies are in our world, and we all must face them.
Zombies Are Infectious
I don’t think it’s coincidence that the stereotypical zombie eats brains. If our mind gets infected, it eventually spreads to our hearts. Infect the mind, you infect the heart. Kill the heart, you kill the life. Proverbs 4:23 of The Bible says, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it” (NIV).
There are dead spots in our hearts, shadows where secrets lurk. If not formally laid to rest so we can cut them loose, or drag them into the light for healing so we can move on, they will spread and reproduce more sorrow in our lives. Then we become numb, taking on the persona of a zombie ourselves. Our attitudes will then infect those around us.
I recognize these problems aren’t television drama. If only they were. They come with strong emotions. Heaviness. And I never said it would be easy. But what I am saying is, more than survival is possible.
We Will Not Defeat Them Alone
Fighting zombies alone is a death wish. Living out your life on this earth, alone—be it hiding your battles or hiding yourself—is a life wasted in a private apocalypse. And let’s be honest, we’ve all tried. Putting up a facade of transparency with others, exerting energy to divert conversations away from our pain. Over and over again. And the zombies keep coming, and growing in numbers. It’ll simply wear you out.
We don’t have to do this alone. Find a small band of trustworthy friends to battle beside you. Even two are better than one. Find a church with open arms toward anyone, regardless of background. (Believe it or not, they do exist. I go to one.) But still, we need something more.
Friends cannot reach the deepest corners of our hearts—they can’t resurrect the dead. We need something greater to heal our wounded places, breathe life into our drowning souls. We need the touch of God.
And this is why we celebrate Easter, to remember that death is not our final destiny. And I’m not talking just when our physical bodies die. There is life yet on this earth. Plenty of it to go around.
But it always boils down to choice. Will we choose God’s way out, or search endlessly for our own?
In the end, the zombies don’t care about you, or your choice. And they certainly don’t care about God. All they care about is dragging you down and feeding on you, then moving on to the next victim. But defeating them is possible.
Again, I say this a lot out here. It’s a matter of choice. We have one. Maybe not making our enemies disappear, but certainly overcoming them. One day—and you can sleep comfortably on this—all good things will be restored.