“Canon Tallis suggests that perhaps for our day the best translation of love is the name of Jesus, and that will tell us everything about love we need to know.”
Madeleine L’Engle from Walking on Water
But Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”
Matthew 19: 26 (ESV)
Holy Week, a week when all goes quiet. A week of contemplation. Listening. Soul-scaping. This is where I find myself. I’m wondering if you are feeling the same?
There’s a heaviness in my soul, and still, I quiver in anticipation for what is to come. The very air around me vibrates with it. The full moon shining bright, reminds me of it.
Gazing out the window, stands a pear tree, she begs for a groom and a trim. We’ve been here three years now, and still we’ve neglected her.
I scratch words on the page, hold them tight. Words that come through my own soul-scaping. My own need for pruning. Trimming the excess, the need for more. Quieting myself, listening.
In her Bible Study, Sacred Secrets, Beth More said this:
“We don’t have to tell it all, but we have to live in such a way that is honest before people and not contradictory.”
Perhaps I’ll share the words soon. Meanwhile, I fix my eyes on the tree. There’s life in the dead limbs. Flashes of color. A song of spring.
Can you see it? The life? Dead limbs fill with yellow finches. The American Goldfinch, they’re called. They fill the top, the dead limbs, with life throughout the day. Their song carries on the breeze and through the open windows.
We live in the in between. The days before death comes to life. We are the in between people, left to ponder have we gone to far? Can we make it back to life?
I’m here to tell you, it is never too late. You have never gone too far, so far, that God will not pursue and woo you back to life. Done so wrong, that you can’t find life in the dead parts.
“The Great Artist-the Maker of stars and straw and soil-was not supposed to be a king. To reign strong, not sweat blood. To be served, not be a servant. To live long, not die a criminal. If we stopped there, with his death the story would be unjust and unfair-and unfinished. And that is precisely the point.” Emily P. Freeman from A Million Little Ways
There’s a Maker, a God who will chase you to the depths of Sheol. Ask me how I know this.
I know. I know, because He pulled me from the darkest pit of death and sin, of things so wrong I believed I could not be saved. That I had gone too far.
There’s life in the dead limbs. Life in the dead parts of you. Life in the tomb where our Savior was laid and wrapped in burial clothes.
From a babe wrapped in strips of cloth, laid in a manger, to a man who wept, who carried a cross for me and you. Nailed there to die a criminal’s death.
Three days pass, the stone is rolled away. We peer in to an empty tomb, we see life after death. A risen Savior.
For me. For you.
But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5 (ESV)
For now we’ll leave the tree, watch life in the dead limbs, listen as song whispers in. Wait in the in between. Wait for life after death.
With God all things are possible! Hold that promise, hold it tight.
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Gifts of Grace