Happy Easter! This year the gift of Christ’s resurrection seems especially poignant as J and I are caught in that place of hoping for a joy not yet realized. We are in a place of anticipation, and the glory of Christ conquering the grave gives me great reassurance and courage to keep hoping, praying and longing. In Christ we have reason to hope and today I am grateful to know the care of a loving God. So, even in the midst of a season of life that is not how I would have ever chosen, I am thankful for the journey and find joy in the anticipated fulfillment of enduring hope.
There is a poem by one of my favorite poets, Luci Shaw, that seems especially fitting for today. I hope you enjoy it – it is from her book, Water Lines.
Spring is a promise
in the closed fist of a long winter. All
we have got is a raw slant of light at a low
angle, a rising river of wind, and an icy rain
that drowns the green in a tide of mud. It is
the daily postponement that disillusions.
(Once more the performance has been canceled
by the management.) We live on legends
of old springs. Each evening brings
some remote possibilities of renewal:
“Maybe tomorrow?” But the evening and the
morning are the umpteenth day, and the God
of sunlit Eden still looks on the weather
and calls it – good.