It’s Holy Week and, like years past, I’m stuck on resurrection. I’m dwelling on the areas of my life that feel so dead, so very much over, so that door has been slammed shut. And the resurrection they preach of on Sunday mornings means new life and second chances and healing and restoration in those areas of life, right? Resurrection means life conquers death and God reigns, hallelujah, amen. Resurrection means it’s all going to be okay. Right? Right??
I always feel a little guilty, come Easter. I’m always reminded that God brings LIFE and He LIVES and we should never forget He can BRING LIFE TO THE DEAD. Every year I feel bad about the areas in my life where I, resignedly, claimed death. Endings. Donezo. El fin. Areas of life I had given up on, places I knew would never be fixed, relationships and people that would never be part of my future. And Easter Sunday would come and I’d think, okay, okay – maybe there’s life still to be had here. Maybe these bones will come to life. Maybe God will breath new life into these ashes.
But what if resurrection is something else? What if some of those doors that slammed shut stay shut? What if some of those broken relationships remain broken? What if God meets us in the death and destruction, sits down with us in the ashes – and instead of breathing new life, He simply points the way out. Read More