An Easter Bunny Named "Jackrabbit"

Easter is coming up in a few days. So, naturally, I’ve been pondering what the Easter Bunny symbolizes. And, naturally, I am drawing a blank. I mean, who here has an excellent idea of exactly how bunnies relate to the true meaning of Easter? Maybe one of you has a great idea regarding that, and maybe I’m just sourly undereducated.

However, there is one particular bunny in my life that reminds me of the central figure of the holiday that is Easter.

Once upon a time I was a high school freshman who was still slightly too young to drive. The boy next door, though, was not freshman, not sophomore, but junior, and he had a pretty awesomely and legitimately vintage teal-turquoise Jeep – one that could have windows and a cover if you wanted it to have windows and a cover. So, like, you could turn it into one of two distinct 19^th century American pioneer trek vehicles: the covered wagon, or the handcart. The boy next door would always give me a ride to school, early every weekday morning, and we’d usually transport ourselves handcart-style (with no windows or cover). Sometimes it was bitter cold in our Mojave Desert, and you’d shiver in that bitterness whether you weren’t going handcart-style or you were. But I never minded it, because it was always me who got to ride to school in the hippest, swankiest ride evah.

Oftentimes I didn’t care for the music that the boy next door liked to listen to when we journeyed northward to school; however, he did introduce to me two of my “guilty pleasure” songs (**>>COUGH<<**Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana and Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N’ Roses**>>COUGH<<**). The boy next door and I would never talk to each other; we’d just sit and travel, sit and travel, and sit and travel. And listen to grunge rock. Bahaha.

In fact, I think the only substantial thing he ever said to me was “Do you want to cut through the desert on the way to school?” and the only substantial thing I ever said to him was when I replied to his question with “Yep.”

And so we’d take the shortcut through the desert all the time. We created a path one day, and continued to take that path all of the subsequent days. Day one, halfway up the path, a black-tailed jackrabbit hopped in front of us, just barely missing our forthcoming speeding tires. Lucky rabbit. It didn’t take long to realize that that jackrabbit lived its life by strict clockwork, because we witnessed it hop across our path in that exact same spot many, many, many a morning. Such marvelous consistency.

This is the “particular bunny in my life” that I mentioned in paragraph two of this blog post. When I was recently racking my brain to try to think of some bunny that is at least indirectly connected to Easter, I thought of that amazing jackrabbit. I thought about jackrabbit’s constancy, and I thought about how Jesus Christ is my constant. He and His beloved Father—who is my Heavenly Father—both are my constants. Christ, in particular, continuously offers to mankind His great atoning sacrifice that is infinitely more amazing than my jackrabbit friend. Christ’s deeply beautiful atonement, which unfailingly helps, heals, and blesses people who humbly and devotedly use it, is always there. It’s a constant.

Another constant that has been offered upon the table—never to be withheld from any past, present, or future human soul—is the unfathomably remarkable gift of resurrection, which is the post-death permanent reunion of body and spirit, and was made possible by Jesus Christ, on that first glorious Easter day. Christ died, but rose from the dead. He lived after He died. He lives now. We will have that invaluable opportunity to live after we die. The promise that we’ll have that opportunity is constant. Constant like the jackrabbit, only more so, and more importantly so.

Um, anyway, that’s what a jackrabbit and Easter have to do with each other, in my mind.

May we all remember our Savior and Redeemer, Jesus Christ, especially at this Eastertime. May we always be able to feel His love, for He loves us constantly.