Made Alive

-

 


This morning in church I wrote down a bunch of words the resurrection stirs in my heart:

Fresh/Clean

New/Renew

Spring/Refresh

Young/Tender 

Baby/Fragile

Light/Life

Hope/Love

We sang songs of rejoicing and praise and heard a message about victory and a reading of thoughts from Nicodemus's perspective.

Yesterday the little kids and their mom's had a resurrection garden party and they made these little gardens out of terra cotta pots and rocks and mosses.

I love how the celebration of Easter gets us all involved in real and tangible ways.

As real as sticks and stones that kids can touch and imagine the cross and the tomb where Jesus lay. Feathery mosses and new young plants depicting new life...to touch something real that helps one to understand the meaning of...priceless.

And again, this year, the Jeremy Camp song..."the same power that rose Jesus from the dead lives in us"

A thought I can not seem to fully grasp. I want to. Lord, help my unbelief when it all looks so terribly wrong and dark from this earthly side of things...it is also stated in the Bible several times. Eph 1. 

I DO BELIEVE. Let me walk in obedience  like I really do when all seems lost. Amen


Comments

Post a Comment

I love hearing from you and I want to know your perspective; please share!

Popular posts from this blog

Writing Inspirational and Preachy or Writing Novels

-
I keep being asked when I am going to write my book. It's my own fault...I blabbered about it so many times through out the years.  Years. Yes, it has been years. I am approaching 50 rapidly. And still have not written this book. I think because I have too many ideas and the main passion in my head to write about, which is family and home and marriage and relationships, well, it's just been too intense and special. And I want to protect and respect the people in my life and their journey. So to write openly and honestly and passionately about those things sometimes is just too too much. Too much exposure. Too much risk. Too much rawness and real. I am finding as I grow in age and hopefully in wisdom, that most people are not willing to know or be known. People in general find going deep and being personal a lot like getting a tooth pulled. Nobody wants to admit pain or trials or even pure joy and blessings.  It seems to be a kind of cover. And a little too much bluffing and pr...
Read more

Growing up in the 80's

-
I was born in 1976. Some of my siblings last night, on the family page, went wild with history that was going on at their time of birth. It was interesting. I googled my own but got distracted with remembering the 80's and 90's. The parts of living in a little girls mind without the history lesson, that is... Sunday mornings. Tight braids and hair balls. Unbearably tight braids that made my eyes water. I'd go to the mirror to make sure my eyes weren't squinting. Thick cotton socks stuffed inside black shiny buckle shoes. The buckles were  often stretched out on the shoes, so that they buckled loosely at best. And the hair balls also had lost their elasticity. The Dress...double knit polyester, green with big purple flowers. Hot and scratchy. Jelly shoes and moon boots. If you know, you know. Tights that hung low in the crotch. No such thing as leggings. Big glasses. Didn't care. Could finally see actual blades of grass and leaves on trees. Barefoot, mowing lawn. Gre...
Read more

Keep Singing

-
Image
  How can I keep from singing... If only it was that easy. But walking through a spring time orchard does help one to come to this... The thing is, celebration and beauty for the good things in life are at the same time going to bring pain and suffering and reminders of grief. This is life. The spring blossoms are beautiful and amazing, a breath from heaven...softness and comfort and fragrant peace...answers to prayers...safety...refuge... This is life too. Loss and grief and brokenness.  Relationships break and we can't seem to forgive and move on. Our babies go to heaven before they arrive on earth. Some of us don't even get the hope of a child. We are barren. Left alone, dry, and withered. We feel forgotten.  It comes to me in a still small voice that we all experience and suffer, loss and grief. We all get to choose..."Though none go with me, still I will follow". This is best committed and promised to God when we are most alone and stripped of everything we ever ...
Read more