everyday thoughts on eternal things
This is my hope in life and death. In pandemic quarantines, and chronic illness, and uncertainty about loved one’s health. In anxiety, and weakness, and broken bodies, and the world’s innumerable sadnesses. Jesus is still alive, even when it doesn't feel like Easter.
There is a measure of freedom we experience here, and a sense of fearful trembling too, acknowledging the uniqueness of the one life we alone are called to live before God.
I’m receiving it as mercy, the reminder that if it feels hard to follow Jesus, to obey him and love him, to sacrifice my own desires to know him better, it’s normal.
May many be summoned to the Supper through the words on our shelves. Thanks mom, for showing me how to set the table.
All the trees of the forest will sing for joy when Christ returns, from the cedars of Lebanon to the Redwoods of California. But I think if you listen closely, you can catch the neighborhood trees rehearsing.
Keeping Heart 