Festivity is for not forgetting
what the Mighty Hand
has done
for Us.
We were slaves -
faced with extinction,
in danger
from hubris gone wild.
Supported by
pagan beliefs,
the citizens obeyed
their human god -
treating people as property,
annihilating Hebrew males
as a form of population control.
Meanwhile...
The Burning Bush
speaks
(moved by compassion)
and mounts a plan
to rescue a people
and call them
to Himself.
Then darkness
unravels
as Creation
rebels.
Blood of lambs
serves as a symbol
and safety net -
islands in the midst
of a destructive
storm.
Doorways framed
in scarlet;
death as a path
to hope.
So we remember
again and again
in ritual
and celebration.
Choosing a lamb who
is worthy,
the first criteria.
Jesus bows His head
in submission.
We are slaves to sin,
owned and driven
by the Power
clothed in shadow.
Jesus offers freedom.
Death
as a path
to hope.
The end
is not the end
at all.
The unveiling will occur,
disclosing
the next stage
of the journey -
the real vista
spreading before us.
Everything
after this moment
is the future.
I carry with me,
stuffed in pockets,
ideas of that time:
eventual destruction
or
eternal glory.
God says,
"I am making all things
new."
In renewed places,
the earth will be reborn
in blissful colors -
even colors will have colors -
and multi-faceted
echoes
of musical symphonics
will ring out.
Reverberations
and waves
of beauty.
Brokenness will heal,
chaos dissolve,
borders melt
and shards of pain
evaporate,
leaving deep-seated
contentment
and shalom.
God will dwell
with us, His people,
once again.
Everpresent.
God squared,
poured out
and filling every atom.
"A consummation devoutly
to be wished."*
Hold onto
this revelation to come
and live
accordingly.
*William Shakespeare, Hamlet
Stepping into
a noir world,
God points the way.
Light removes some shadows
while deepening others.
Everything has
a shadow side.
Fractured lives
wound with their
sharp, jagged edges
and can only be healed
through
death and blood.
Salvation
absolves past eclipses
by paying
the price.
In the day-to-day
we struggle with our
flip side,
or give in to it,
or deny that we
even have a shadow.
Jesus offers a hand,
a shoulder,
a presence
to keep us from stumbling
more than necessary.
He promises reformation
of our twisted hearts
as we follow Him.
In our walk towards death
we so often walk
blindfolded and quaking.
Yet
Jesus offers new life
as we step through
that door
and into His
forever
presence.
Continually needing rescue,
we walk
on wounded feet
through darkened streets.
Light glimmers -
a faint path.
We follow, limping,
but hope-filled.
At the start
of all things -
JesusGod.
He set time in motion,
swirled universes
into existence
and breathed
life
into man.
JesusGod
crafted us
for his good pleasure,
not for the quiet desperation
of isolated units.
Bombarded with messages
to buy,
gorge
and drown
the longing for connection,
we struggle
to be real.
The God-shaped hole
aches
to be filled,
our hearts restless
until we find You
and
fit together
like the missing piece of
a jigsaw puzzle,
satisfyingly
snapped into place.
All that is
came from JesusGod.
All.
Every mind-boggling
particle
of this amazing creation -
beauty trembling
in a dewdrop
and reverberating
in a note of crystalline
music -
comes to us
from His hands.
Humans are the epitome
of His masterwork -
fractured though
we may be,
yet shot through
with glory.
May we see each other
with new eyes
this season -
immortal sparks
reflecting JesusGod,
sprinkled
with salty grace.
The ocean journey
concluded,
a new chapter begins.
Letter-writing ensues -
missals sent
throughout the known world.
Paul's mission
flourishes,
even in chains.
What is the rest
of my story?
All stories end
but how they end
is an open question.
Some great starts
get sidetracked;
and some just plod along,
head down,
kicking up only dust.
Others finish early
in a brilliant flash
and others
run the marathon well
and finish with
honor.
To be in this category
one needs a vision -
a far away reference point
to fixate on.
How do I want to end?
What epitaph will
sum me up,
carved in solid stone?
Once the end is seen,
I must work step by step
to make it true.
Press on.
Marathons require
stamina,
perseverance,
pacing
and strength.
Daily intake of sacred space;
intential binding to others
who will cheer me on
while challenging me
to push harder;
reining in my appetites
and excercising
wariness about
every emotion;
all of these will see
me through.
I must see myself
clearly for the flawed
creature I am,
knowing that within
each of us
lies the potential
fatal flaw,
simmering in secret.
I must cultivate
gratitude
for every breath
I'm given,
fight the good fight,
finish well.
