At His Feet: A Love Letter for Easter by Afia

Dear Friend ,

Easter heels are ringing everywhere. Woven into social media captions, chocolate wrappers, and carefully arranged Sunday outfits. And yet, if you’re anything like me, the season makes you pause. Maybe you’ve been going about your days with your head down, tending to life as it unfolds. But somehow, Easter interrupts us. It gently taps our shoulder and whispers: remember why.

And when I do , when I sit with the why of Easter, I feel this strange, quiet wash of emotion. It’s like longing and peace, like stillness and celebration, like love that stretches past what my mind can wrap around. It’s a reminder that I’m so deeply loved beyond comprehension. That you are too.

Easter reminds me of the Man who didn’t just save me, but redefined me.
The One who peeled off all the harsh labels I had collected over the years : too much, too broken, too cold and looked at me and said: “You are my best poem.”

I’ve always imagined what it would be like to be the muse of an artist. To be chosen. Captured. Seen. And yet, how wild is it that the One who paints sunsets and clothes flowers in their finest would call me His masterpiece? How staggering to be loved by the same hands that carve mountains and calm storms.

When I think of Easter, I imagine myself at His feet.
Not in a dramatic, staged scene, but in a quiet moment of exchange.

Where we just sit. No pressure to perform. No need to prove. Just knowing each other. I feel lighter there and my shoulders relax, my breath slows, and I find I smile more in His presence.

It’s in that place where the loud, lingering lies fall off.
“you’re hard to love,”
“you’re too far gone,”
“you’re not enough.”

And He calls me priceless.

At the feet of Jesus, I’m reminded that the cross wasn’t just for some. It’s for all of us.

There’s room for:

The angry,
who need space to throw tantrums and still be held.

The weary,
who just want to rest.

The skeptic,
who is searching for meaning.

The doubter,
who needs space to question without shame.

The broken-hearted,
who are scared to feel again.

The prideful,
who are tired of holding it all together.

The anxious,
who need a place to let go.

The ashamed,
who just want to be seen and not flinch.

The desperate for love,
who are finally met with immense love not a watered down, performative one, but the kind that changes your life.

At His feet,
you can come as you are.
And you’ll never leave the same.

Because when we sit in the presence of mercy and grace, something shifts
Walls come down.
Heaviness lifts.
And our hearts lean in a little more.

We don’t just learn about the Lord.
We experience Him.
We see Him.
We know that He loves us.

So this Easter,
I find myself grateful ,
deeply,
wildly,
breathlessly grateful.

For the cross.
For the resurrection.
For the empty tomb.
For the God who didn’t stay distant, but stepped into our dust.
For the Man whose death and life became the yardstick of every kind of love I’ll ever know.

I hope you find yourself at His feet this Easter too.

Whether you’re tired, joyful, uncertain, or full of questions ,
come.
There’s space for you.
He’s been waiting.

                          With love and wonder,
                                                            ~Afia 🤎