Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live, even after dying. [John 11:25 (NLT)]
Father we thank you for the three days that impacted eternity for us all: the day of Christ’s birth, the day of His death and the day of His resurrection. Thank you for the gift of Christmas and sending your Son to us – to teach, comfort and lead us. Thank you for the sacrifice of Good Friday when you met our guilt with grace and redeemed us. Thank you for Easter and its hopeful message of sin’s defeat and everlasting life. Let your Holy Spirit fill us and gives us the power to live in faith and obedience so that we may become the people you want us to be.
O God,
who for our redemption gave your only-begotten Son to the death of the cross,
and by his glorious resurrection delivered us from the power of our enemy:
Grant us so to die daily to sin, that we may evermore live
with him in the joy of his resurrection;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and forever. Amen.
[1979 Book of Common Prayer]
If I ran the world, I wouldn’t be plagued with arthritis and my husband wouldn’t have a bum leg that prevents him from skiing and snowshoeing. As long as I’m fantasizing, calories wouldn’t count, we’d always have fresh powder on the slopes, and ski boots would be comfortable. If I ran the world, floors would mop themselves but, chances are, I’d end up like Mickey Mouse in the movie Fantasia and find myself overwhelmed with uncontrollable brooms, buckets and a flood. As the cartoon mouse learned, power without wisdom can make for a mess. Fortunately, God hasn’t resigned from His role and I concede that His plan is always better than mine. I’ve come to recognize that even when we understand God’s plan, even when we know His plan is the right one, and even when we finally accept it, we may not necessarily like it very much.
Jehovah Rapha, the “Lord who Heals You,” was the name of God proclaimed to the Israelites through Moses at Marah. Indeed, a God who could make the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers clean and raise Lazarus from the dead can heal any physical ailment.
We’d taken my daughter and grand-daughter to a magic show and both my husband and grand had participated in two rather impressive illusions. On the way home, we three adults tried to figure out how each trick had been done. We explored various scenarios that might explain how the $50 bill with my husband’s signature on it ended up in the middle of an uncut orange, in a paper bag, and in a locked box that was in another locked box across the stage. We also tried to figure out how the magician used an elaborate series of mathematical calculations to know the age of our grand’s dog in dog years. (The dog, not there and being 105 in dog years, was most definitely not your average dog.) While we pondered various scenarios, my grand piped up, “Stop trying to figure it out. It was magic!” While it was an entertaining show, we know it wasn’t magic; it was just a carefully orchestrated and well-executed series of tricks. Nevertheless, we continued to want to know how each had been done. There is something about us all that wants to make sense of that which makes no sense. Sometimes, however, that can’t be done.
It’s springtime in the mountains and I’m thrilled to see that it’s snowing. Although I was hoping for at least one more powder day on the mountain, that’s not why I’m pleased. I’m happy because, once again, everything looks pristine and clean. You see, March’s warmer temperatures and sunshine have been busy melting the nearly 300 inches of snow we’ve had this season. As that white stuff gradually disappears, ugliness is uncovered. Hidden under those mounds of snow is four months’ worth of unsightly litter, pollution, exhaust and smoke residue, scoria and gravel. That filthy accumulation is now making its appearance along the roadways. As the snow recedes along the footpaths, it’s not just lost mittens, discarded tissues and cigarette butts that emerge but also the dog dirt and moose and elk pellets from the animals who have ventured onto the trails. As beautiful as springtime in the mountains can be, this ugliness is part of what we call “mud season.” Today’s snow covers it all up again and I can briefly forget the filth hiding beneath it. It’s sort of like sweeping dirt under the carpet or painting over handprints on the wall; although the grime is still there, it doesn’t bother us because it can’t be seen.
Devotions of the Heart 