Quote of the Day: Sunday Best

Today is the day that Christian populations around the world celebrate the victory over death, the resurrection of Christ, Jesus from his darkened tomb. Three days earlier, he had been mercilessly crucified by the Romans, hung on a cross while his loved ones and doubters looked on. He is risen, we would say, when celebrating his triumph over his inevitable death. We mourned in his dying hours and when the morning came, there was joy, that He had conquered what had killed Him and that we would receive love, salvation and forgiveness.


Easter Sunday, though, has also meant being spoiled by my grandma with new, white shoes for church and a pretty, flower dress to match. My hair would be pressed and curled, I would wake up before the sunrise with my parents to attend our church’s ‘Sunrise Service’ and welcome the joy that Jesus promised. We would pray and eat together as we watched the sunrise, along with the rest of our church family. Then, later in the morning, we would return to the church building and sing hymns such as, This Is The Day and another one about victory over death (the name escapes me at the moment!). 

For some people, too, this day is a reason to get together with family and/or friends, scavenge for easter eggs full of candy (or money!), stuff oneself silly with a good Sunday lunch and overeat Cadbury chocolate and Resse’s special chocolate eggs. Consider me a guilty participant! The quote that I wanted to feature is a favourite one of mine, from one of my favourite people in history: Sophie Scholl. What I enjoy most about this quote is Sophie’s frankness in her lack of knowledge about God, her loss of feeling for a connection with him and the need for prayer in her life.


In celebration of Jesus’ resurrection and joy, I wanted to share both versions (English & German). I hope everyone has a blessed Easter Sunday and cheers for reading! 🙂 ❤


Diary: (Draft of a letter intended for her sister Inge but never sent)

Blumberg, undated [November/December 1941]

All I meant was that we should simply entrust God with the worries we so arrogantly cling to and allow to depress us or drive us to despair. I don’t find that easy, because when I try to pray and reflect on whom I’m praying to, I almost go crazy, I feel so infinitely small. I get really scared, so the only emotion that can surface is fear. I feel so powerless in general, and doubtless I am. I can’t pray for anything except the ability to pray.

Do you know, whenever I think of God, it’s as if I’m struck blind. I can’t do a thing. I have absolutely no conception of God and no affinity with him aside from my awareness of the fact. And the only remedy for that is prayer.


Tagebuch-Entwurf eines nicht abgeschickten Briefes an die Schwester Inge

Blumberg, ohne Datum (November/Dezember 1941)

Ich meinte damit nichts anderes als seine Sorgen, die man so hochmütig festhält und sich von ihnen niederdrücken oder zur Verzweiflung bringen läßt, einfach in Gottes Hand legen. Es geht mir nicht so einfach damit; denn wenn ich beten will und überlege mir, zu wem ich bete, da könnte ich ganz verrückt werden, da werde ich dann so winzig klein, ich fürchte mich direkt, so daß kein andere Gefühl als das Furcht aufkommen kann. Überhaupt fühle ich mich so ohnmächtig, und ich bin es wohl auch. Ich kann um nichts anderes beten, als um das Betenkönnen.

Weißt Du, wenn ich Gott denke, da stehe ich da wie ganz mit Blindheit geschlagen, ich kann gar nichts tun. Ich habe keine, keine Ahnung von Gott, kein Verhältnis zu ihm. Nur eben, daß ich das weiß. Und da hilft wohl nichts anderes als Beten.



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