Easter

 

What is there to say on this day?

That the Lord is risen? He is risen indeed.

I feel it pressing in on me today, the weight of it pushing on every square inch of the skin of my soul: an awareness of the kindness of the Lord to me.

And I could fill your Instagram feed with pictures of His kindness: of the faces of faithfulness and the bountiful gifts, but it is not of these things that I speak.  I speak of the pain, of the mistakes, of the failure, of the darkness.  How kind He has been to me through these things.

This day.

[I wrote all this on Thursday BTW. So. ya know. go with it.] 

I love this day.  We have much to remember on it – He and I.

This day a few decades back (give or take a few years) You were wrapping bones and cells and ligaments around this soul that is me.  You were expanding lungs to inhale air.

This day a couple a thousand years ago (or at least what we remember on this day) You were staring down Your worst fears.

finding peace.

I woke up this morning feeling it in every part of my body.  The stress starts in the pit of my stomach and bubbles up through my vertebrae, infecting my muscles.

I honestly couldn’t tell you what I am stressed about.  Work has been busy, there are tasks unfinished with immovable deadlines, there are so many tops spinning that one is going to fall on my watch, but honestly – I’m no stranger (and some might say I even enjoy) the chaos of this kind of work.  I’m behind on projects desperately important to me (stay tuned for grief videos!), but agin, that’s nothing new.

Want more than you fear.

 

Light dawns in the darkness. 

Not after the darkness. Not out of the darkness.  But in the darkness.

There is a mythical person who knows this truth – the scriptures describe this person as the upright, the righteous.  And the upright is not moved.  The upright is not afraid of bad news.

Because the upright knows the glorious, utterly transforming truth that light dawns in the darkness.  

God doesn’t always give us the promises we want.

Salty.

I’m not sorry for all the recent rants, but I do feel sorry for those around me who are trying to live normal lives and process normal things and can’t get through a simple conversation without some fire coming from me.

I’m restless you see.  As restless as this culture of ours, with its swelling waves.  If you will take a single step outside your normal spheres you will feel the water rising.  Tides are turning. and things are changing.  This world is restless, and so am I.