Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘resurrection’

Our autumn rides hold a special place in my heart.  While the air is crisp, requiring an extra layer of clothing, the view from the back seat is glorious.  Here in Yakima and the surrounding countryside the trees are fighting each other for attention, flashing their shades of gold and green, russet and rose.  Along the river the sumac is dressed in red while the birch trees have chosen bright yellow gowns.  I can smell the fall and it’s moist and earthy.

The autumn season is short and I always feel like we have to hurry and enjoy it before it’s gone.  There is such a contrast in the blinding sunlight and the cool air, almost like a warning.  If you’re inside looking out, it appears to be warm.  But step out the door without a jacket and you’ll shiver immediately.

Huddled on the back of our Harley with my leather clad arms wrapped around my guy my thoughts are bittersweet. I wouldn’t trade the beauty of autumn for anything but I’m sad for the signs that our riding season is almost over.  There’s always that distant thought of what will next year bring? 

Having recently experienced the sudden and unexpected loss of a good friend, it’s hard not to reflect on the uncertainty of life and the certainty of death.  The trees know truth – our life is for a season.  Autumn comes and the best thing they can do is go out in a blaze of glory. The most beautiful, eye catching time of their existence is the beginning of their death – not forever but for a time.

What a lesson for us.  We won’t be green and full of energy forever.  We must take all we can from the joy of our branches dancing in the breeze, birds singing us a morning song, friends relaxing in our cool shade.  At the same time, we must make plans to go out in a blaze of glory.

Is your house in order?  Have you served in such a way that people remark on your golden generosity?  Are you touching lives and sharing some of your rich red life lessons, your russet blessings, and your bright yellow joy of a life well lived? 

We don’t know for sure what tomorrow will bring but we can certainly take measure of what impact we had yesterday.  I want someone to reflect on their ride though the canyon of life and I want a memory to flash back of me beside the river reaching out with beauty and thoughtfulness, making their day a little richer.  I want them to hear the roar of a Harley and smile because it brings to mind a picture of Christ shining like the autumn sun from my face.  

And when my glorious colors fade, please remember I have died not forever but only for a time.  My resurrection colors will make the autumn season look like a black and white movie!  Praise God for that promise.

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands.  Isaiah 55:12

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

I love 4:30 a.m. on a summer morning.  When I slip outside in my robe with a cup of coffee in hand it’s still dark.  And quiet – so very quiet it brings a sense of peace that I embrace because I know within a short time it will be shattered by the day’s  events.

Everything is asleep.  No birds sing.  The trees are still.  There isn’t even a hint yet of the sun stretching her arms and yawning before peeking over the distant hill.  It is a moment in time filled with expectation.

With the stretch of sweltering heat we’ve been experiencing, the early air is a kiss of cool that will not last so I let it settle around me and I sit very still.  I’m waiting for the first sense of something.

It comes with the tiniest puff of a morning breeze.  That sweet little sensation is followed by the distant sound of a car engine starting.  I feel bad for the driver who hasn’t the time to welcome a few moments of stillness.  I keep my eyes on the horizon because I want to be the first to catch a glimpse of pinkish light.  I want to see the beauty and have a flash of compassion for the sleepyheads who are missing this.

The beginning of a new day is not something to be taken for granted.  Our human minds can never know ahead of time what will follow.  Oh, we have our routines, our tasks, our plans, our responsibilities.  We are so caught up in them we miss the grace filled gifts that drop unexpectedly when we least expect them.

Take this morning for instance.  I could be delving early into my housework, repairing the damage of a busy week before we jump on the motorcycle in less than two hours.  I could be getting a start on the laundry.  I could be working on my latest manuscript that I’m always trying to find time to finish.

But if I were doing any of those things, I wouldn’t be sitting here watching the neighbor’s cat slinking along the top of a wooden fence like an Olympic gymnast on the balance beam, soundless yet alert, in search of an unsuspecting mouse in the field.

I wouldn’t notice that when the willow branches stir they dance in perfect unison to a soundless symphony.

I wouldn’t catch the beginning of light dispelling the darkness to the point where shadowy outlines begin to reveal themselves and it’s like God is creating the earth again as I watch.

I wouldn’t have the satisfaction of laughing to myself and telling the first golden rays of sun, “Ha – I win the who-got-up-first contest.”

In a few minutes I will see dust and hear traffic and feel heat.  In a few minutes I’ll be busy.  In a few minutes my plans and routine will begin to be rerouted by the unexpected turns of the day.  In a few minutes I’ll have to have conversations, make decisions, get exasperated, and keep moving forward.

But for these few moments the world is perfect.  Every morning that I get the chance to do this I think it must be like resurrection morning when Jesus stood expectantly, waiting for the weeping world to wake so He could reveal Himself as the miracle of all miracles.  I bet He watched shadows fade, saw the sun wake, felt the breeze stir, listened for the sound of approaching feet and inhaled the beauty of the moment knowing He would soon be busy with His people and His message.

Precious Lord, this morning my heart overflows with gratitude for this tiny moment in time when You come to me to resurrect a heart that has been beaten down by the pressures of living.  I appreciate your taking the time to lift Your hand and point out the beauty of stillness.  Remind me today in the valley of my life that the mountaintop awaits on the other side of the day, here on my porch just before sunrise.  Amen

His coming is as brilliant as the sunrise. Rays of light flash from his hands, where his awesome power is hidden.  Habakkuk 3:4

Read Full Post »

With Easter fast approaching, I listened to Sandy Patty’s classic song, Was It a Morning Like This.  The song asks that question about resurrection morning.  Was it a morning like this?  To tell you the truth, I don ‘t think it was.  I think it was brighter, clearer, more beautiful than any morning sunrise we’ve seen since. 

The announcement of Christ’s release from the grave may have gone to Mary first, but you can’t tell me there was one single soul on earth who did not wake sensing  something was different.  I believe people felt a new hope in their hearts that morning, even if they didn’t know why.

I believe mothers kissed their children more sweetly.  I believe neighbors greeted each other more kindly.  I believe even the dogs left the cats alone!  Because after all – love had returned to the world.  The Son lived again and the Father wanted everyone to know!

A Mighty God does not do things in a minor way.  He is a God of the magnificent and of the amazing.  He is a God so powerful He could have snatched His Son off that cross, and so omniscient He chose not to.  His plan and His timing are perfect. 

Can’t you just picture that Father staring at the sealed tomb, tears streaming down his face, arms lifted in anticipation waiting for the perfect moment to give the command?  Waiting… waiting … waiting … and then at the exact instant He knew was right, the power of God pierced the sky to wrap around that massive stone and effortlessly move it aside.

The heart of God the Father and the heart of Christ the Son met at the entrance of the tomb in a sweet and beautiful reunion, witnessed by no one because it was too private, too precious, too moving, too emotional for the human heart to handle.

Oh, God, I am so thankful You do things in a mighty way.  I am so grateful You carried out your plan for mankind.  I am so humbled at the overwhelming love you showed.  Thank you for the privilege of standing here today – and every day – with the sure confidence to proclaim that I know!  I know that my Redeemer lives!

I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end He will stand on the earth. Job 19:25

Read Full Post »