Alive!

He is alive

and the world

is forever changed

 He is not here; he has risen, just as he said

Matthew 28:6a NIV

repost from 2015

as we wonder

the day in-between

deep despair

and sparkling glory

has an unexpected weight

this year, a living portrait

of the season we have inhabited

the past behind us

the future not yet reachable

we linger here

in wonder

as we wonder

never dimmed

Now from the sixth hour (noon) 

there was darkness over all the land 

until the ninth hour (three o’clock).

Matthew 27:45 Amplified

It is Friday

that Friday

darkness falls

yet there is light

that is never dimmed

that will not be overcome

that will rise from the grave

we are bearers, carriers

containers for that light

the empty place in which He dwells

thin as eggshells on the cusp of cracking

Sunday is coming

Sunday begins

I can only lay myself 

down, nothing left 

but to cry Hosanna

save me

and He comes

and He comes

and He comes

the humble One

the holy One

the only One

hail to our King

so begins a week

of passion, purpose

pain and glory

and He comes

blessed is He

So they took branches of palm trees and went out to meet Him. 

And as they went, they kept shouting, Hosanna! 

Blessed is He and praise to Him Who comes in the name of the Lord, 

even the King of Israel!

John 12:13 Amplified

psalm 47

psalm 47

so this is it, all the prayers

worries, waiting, over

finished, rivers of tears

mingled with praise

bowing low, hands raised

awestruck again

He has risen, just as He said

one act, never seen before

changes everything forever

love unharnessed, profound

takes me deeper, lost

in Jesus, the only way

to be found

psalm 46

psalm 46

the silence of waiting 

is deafening, here

in the in-between

almost afraid to breathe

are You Who You said You Are?

will I stand alone now, forever

the loss of Your presence, fresh

raw, my heart torn wide

the future veiled, I see

only memories, grasping nothing

hope slips fast away

morning will come

the promise of Your glory

but for now, faith trembles

foerver changed

He is alive

and the world

is forever changed

 He is not here; he has risen, just as he said

Matthew 28:6a NIV

 

almost Sunday

be still

and know

that Sunday's coming

silent and waiting with Sandy

 

breathing again

The heavens declare the glory of God;

    the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Psalm 19:1 NIV

I've always been one to appreciate the beauty of God’s handiwork displayed as the sun begins it’s ascent in the morning sky.

Yet the darkness seemed to be settling in deep, driving me inwards, even as the light dawned.  

God’s glory hovering over Malawi was a call we never doubted. Wide eyed, innocent and willing to be obedient, we hungrily stepped into our first full time mission assignment. In a very short time the things we expected, the life we thought we would be living and the work we had felt called to do was crumbling in our hands.  I didn't know what to do with the disappointment. 

Like Christ’s disciples on the day following His crucifixion how could I imagine life would continue? I completed whatever tasks were given to me, never certain if my work was sufficient. Frightened of failure, I couldn't reconcile with the idea of giving up but did not know how to move forward.
Stuck and shaken, weeks passed living in the lonely space between Good Friday and Easter morning; between what was and what isn't yet.  I could only see what I was losing, budding relationships with Malawian people who had crawled straight into my heart.

I stopped talking to my Lord, certain he would see me as I saw myself, faulty and not up to the assignment He had set before me. I stepped off the only Rock that could sustain me and the world spun with a fierceness that stripped my breath.

Have you been there, convinced that somehow God stopped paying attention, didn't care, leaving you desolate and shaking?

Jesus, how could you leave us?  What about the Kingdom You promised? Now what are we to do? We can only assume what those who had followed Christ were thinking during those long hours of in-between.

There is a day after Saturday; for them, for you and for me.  When I was so weary I couldn’t reach for Him, He reached down and lifted me. When my words ran dry, His were fresh, true and life sustaining.

You are looking for Me in the ashes.  I Am not there, I have risen. The same power that lifted Me from the tomb resides in you. This is not the end of the road, far, far from it. Rise then, to new plans and purposes, designed by My hand. 

I am breathing again, gulping life. This is not an end to the road, just a redirection. We will not work in Malawi, but we will serve where He chooses. I know He will use me, broken and frail. Hopes once crushed have been resurrected, bold and bright as Sunday morning.

Linking up at The High Calling as we ponder Resurrection


 

all in the waiting

I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope

For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; 

wait without love

For love would be love of the wrong thing; 

there is yet faith

But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the waiting.

Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought. 

So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness, the dancing.

T.S. Eliot

One year ago, it was not the Saturday of waiting

for the glory of Easter Sunday, no

that day of rejoicing had come

and gone, weeks before

last year today was a Friday

a different day of waiting

for what we knew would come

but could never prepare for

and by Saturday, she was

simply no longer here

grief is sticky, having 

it's way with me

there is no calendar

for mourning

no limit to tears

I wait for Sunday

in the stillness with Sandy

 

Even the sun

Even the sun itself will bow

for no power on earth, or hell below

will stand in the presence of The Christ.

Victorious on the those sticks of wood

His blood was shed

and yet remains

ever a reminder of His great love.

But don't look for Him there.

The cross is empty, the tomb vacant.

All He claimed to be, proven.

Risen. Alive. Glorified.

When troubles come

and come they will

look to the empty cross.

You can hear me recite this poem below:

in the stillness with Sandy

in the secret place with Cheryl

 

and singing in the Sunday choir with Deidra

 

His passion

As I sat quietly with My Lord in the early morning hours of Holy Thursday, I opened my journal to capture what my heart sensed He wanted to share:

Yes, it is the time of My passion and I thank you for carrying My fire even when you can not see or fully comprehend all that I have accomplished

Thank you that your walk through the world announces
"take Him seriously"

I Am mystery
I seem to Be beyond belief
but I Am
and I ache when trivialized
as if the mocking lashes strike gain today

You have chosen both the easiest and the most difficult way
as you follow Me and lift Me up

and I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself John 12:32 RSV
  

Holy week rambling

This is called Holy Week

the time between Palm and Easter Sundays

a time of passion

wonder

awe

This is a week of sudden outbursts

gratitude, praise

tears

This is a week of choosing

to believe 

what is impossible

to believe

breath stopping sacrifice

reckless obedience

for you

for me

for all

I am uncertain

have I learned to receive

what I did not deserve

unmerited grace

mad rush of love

have I learned to give

in the same measure

poor in spirit

we are all 

the least of these

 

Winter to summer and back

Cederburg, Wisconsin

We have passed from winter to spring to summer then back in this most unusual year of season's change.

While we were away warming our bones in temperatures way above normal in the midwestern States we missed a wet and heavy snowfall.  Perhaps I need to rephrase that, for I did not "miss" the snow at all and was happy to see none of it remaining as we pulled into the yard late yesterday afternoon.

Rain and possible snow are forecast for our weekend, which is nothing extraordinary in this northern place.

It matters little to me as my heart and thoughts are turned toward the One Who made this the holiest of weeks.

May the passion that drove Him to the cross burn within me at a fever pitch, the intensity of His love etching deeply into my spirit.

I am happy to be home even as I realize more each day that home is truly not here, but wherever He Is.


 

Because...

Hope ------ Joy ------ Peace

because

HE LIVES

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!
In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope
through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead
1 Peter 1:3 NIV

 

Muffled

Clouds have been gathering and scattering this afternoon.
As my cold rages, sinuses alternately stuffed or leaking, noise roars in my head.
Could I make it into a kind of music, pleasant melody, it might not be bad.
Things are muffled.
We all are waiting.
Knowing what they couldn't have known all those years ago.
Victory will rise with the coming dawn.

Good Friday

May the truth of Who He Was and Is and Will Be soak into your heart and spirit today.

Imperfect by design

The skies can not decide on sun or clouds. My body tries to choose health over infirmity and wanting air, I step out into a breeze warmer than I expected. I hear the noise of birds just arrived, filling the trees around the yard, but my presence keeps them hidden.

There is new life hidden in ground also.  And life hidden in every heart.

This is the night our Savior struggled in the garden, wanting to chart new course, choose a different road, but always coming back to "Not my will, but Yours be done."

In that surrender, that choice to die, seeds of life scattered, planted for all, planted for one.

Make me fertile ground, Lord God, unworthy of Your sacrifice, but willing...

for more words by those imperfect but blessed stop by Emily's

It would have been enough

I am struggling with a cold and fever, so this is a repost - but we are again gathering tomorrow, as we did last year:  Jesus celebrated a passover meal with His disciples on Thursday night before His time of agony in the garden.

Tomorrow, after our Good Friday worship service, although a bit out of order time wise, a group of us are gathering to celebrate a Passover seder and meal.

One of my favourite parts of the ceremony is the reciting of Dayenu.

The word “Dayenu” means “It would have been enough.” Reciting the “Dayenu” reminds us that we owe unending praise to God. Just as the Lord continually provides for us we should continually give praise to Him. All too often followers of God fail to receive our Lord’s blessings. We become satisfied with “enough,” though our Heavenly Father desires to give us exceedingly more.

Jesus said, I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. John 10:10b NIV

Had God brought us out of Egypt and not supported us in the wilderness - Dayenu!
Had God given us the Sabbath and not the Torah - Dayenu!
Had God given us the Torah and not brought us to the land of Israel - Dayenu!
Had God only sent Messiah to die for our sins and rise, but not sent the Spirit to show us God’s will - Dayenu!
Had God only sent his Spirit, but not promised Messiah’s return- Dayenu!
Had God only promised Messiah’s return and not established His eternal Kingdom - Dayenu!

I pray that His richest blessings fill your homes as the revelation of Who He Was, Is, and will Be fills your hearts this Easter.

I sense that our Lord wants you to know that if He had to go to the cross for you alone and no one else - Dayenu - you would have been enough!




Jamming with Bonnie as we look at Easter

Look to the empty cross

Even the sun itself will bow
for no power on earth, or hell below
will stand in the presence of The Christ.
Victorious on the those sticks of wood
His blood was shed
and yet remains
ever a reminder of His great love.
But don't look for Him there.
The cross is empty, the tomb vacant.
All He claimed to be, proven.
Risen. Alive. Glorified.
When troubles come
and come they will
look to the empty cross.

for more Wednesday One Shots come to One Stop Poetry