Monthly Archives: April 2011

The Morning After

So, it’s Easter Monday, the morning after the Resurrection day…I wonder what the disciples were thinking on this day?

The past week had to have been one of the most exciting, challenging, uplifting, depressing, devastating weeks that the twelve disciples could have ever lived.

Starting with Palm Sunday, coming to Jerusalem, seeing the crowds of people placing the palm leaves ahead of the Messiah. Things were finally falling in place for their leader!

Monday, watching the frustration and anger as Jesus went about cleaning out the temple (again). Oh, and watching Him pass by that fig tree and giving it a good cursing. Not the most cheerful of days.

Tuesday, a run-in with the local law, along with a trip up the Mount of Olives for what would become the last of His teaching opportunities, clinging to His words, still not realizing that His kingdom that was “at hand” was not a kingdom of the world as they knew it.

Wednesday…it must have been the calm before the storm, it’s a quiet time in the gospels.

Thursday started with the high emotions of the Passover dinner in the upper room, sharing the traditions of their forefathers, but then things started going downhill so soon after: the sadness and grief as He prayed in the garden, followed by the acceptance of what was to come: the betrayal, the arrest, the false trial and conviction of their leader.

Friday, they were struck with grief as they watched their loved one die on that cross. Shock that one of their very own group could be so shallow and selfish as to sell out their leader. Removing His body from that cross, taking it to a tomb, a borrowed one at that, and having to just leave it there, not being properly prepared for burial. Having to hurry back to their homes before the Sabbath began, as there was no time to properly grieve their loss.

Saturday must have been a day filled with shock. I can imagine the disciples feeling shattered, betrayed, and abandoned. The very worst had happened. How could He have allowed Himself to be crucified? How could one of their own have turned against their leader? Had they just wasted the past 3 years of their lives on a wild, crazy dream of a new way of life, giving up everything they owned, to follow someone who had so much to promise, and instead, who was to be betrayed and judged and crucified, just like the two criminals whose crosses flanked His? I’m sure they were exhausted…physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

But then, came Sunday, with the women of the group coming to the tomb to take care of the body, instead, finding it empty, seeing the angels, seeing the LORD, the RISEN LORD!

I’m thinking of how these women must have run to tell the disciples, then coming back to the tomb yet again, seeing Him standing there, reaching out to show them His hands, to prove that He was really their Jesus, and that He really was alive! What excitement, joy, relief, and awe they must have felt, when they were able to see and talk with Him again!

What an incredibly great ending to an otherwise hopeless week!

And now, it’s Monday. There’s always a Monday to follow the weekend, isn’t there? Back to work, back to the routine and the job that is set before you.

Was it business as usual for the disciples? Did they just get up and go about their day, off to the fishing boats, back to the lives that they led before they started following Jesus? Was the Resurrection just a happy memory of a great day? Was it something to put on the calendar … something to plan to celebrate again at this same time next year? Oh, I think not!

Because the story didn’t end on Easter Sunday.   The disciples had been given a mission straight from the lips of the risen Lord Himself. These disciples, who had been in training for three years, now had the business of sharing the full story of good news…that little baby who was born in Bethlehem, who grew to be the man called Jesus, who was crucified in Jerusalem, is now alive again and is the Messiah! They were given the task to share the news that He lives…that Jesus Christ is the only Son of God, that He was crucified, and that by believing in Him your sins are forgiven, and that He is with you always. And that same mission has been given to each who believe.  With whom will you share the good news of the risen Christ?

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. Matthew 28: 19-20

And, one of my favorite gospel hymns…performed by the Gaither Vocal Band
posted to youtube by

 

 

The morning chirp

My feathered and furry friends provided my entertainment as I enjoyed my  coffee this morning.   This is my take on their morning conversation… 

“Hey Red….how’s it going?”

“Not bad. Great day here in the yard. Lots of worms and bugs out after they watered last night.”

“Should be good pickings this morning.”

“Hey, speaking of pickings…did you see that silly squirrel…he’s been hogging the whole feeder!”

“Yeah, he makes a big mess!  All the  the good stuff ends up on the ground. Oh well, it makes it better for the big birds.”

“That’s for sure, because they don’t fit in this little feeder!”

“So maybe the best idea is to just scarf up the stuff that’s on the ground instead of trying to fit into the house.”

“Yep, and then there’s that little birdbrain who takes up the whole water pan.

You’d think it was a birdbath or something!”

“Well, got to wing it out of here. Good chirping with you!”

I can only imagine…

My sister-in-law, Faye, lost her battle with cancer this week. It was short, but fierce.  At first, she said that she wasn’t going to fight the cancer. She was going for ‘quality over quantity’ for the days that she had left to her. But, then she got her legs under her and she came out scrapping. She may have lost the battle, but she won the war. She won, because the things that made Fay HER are still here…

She was the only daughter in a family of boys. She learned at an early age how to play and fight. And she did. She could out-wit, out-play, and out-slug the best of them.

She loved to laugh.

She loved her family. She loved her husband, the sons that were born to her, the daughters that came to her as part of that marriage, and the girls that her boys loved and married. She loved her grandkids, and one of her greatest joys was that she was in the rooms when three of them were born. She loved her cousins and her inlaws, and she even loved her outlaws. If you are reading this and you knew Faye, you can rest assured that she loved you, too. I hope she knew how much we loved her. 

She believed in forgiveness. And second chances. And even third chances when necessary.

She loved roses, all kinds of roses. But she loved yellow ones best.

She loved angels. Her room was full of them. She loved their beauty and loved that they were here to protect us.

She loved Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior. And she worshipped Him in her own special way. She loved to read the Christmas story. Every year, after Christmas Eve had slowed down, she and I would read it at the same time, even though we were separated by the miles. It was our little tradition to each other.

I would have loved to have seen her face when she first opened her eyes in heaven. I can only imagine how it was for her to see the most ‘beautimous’ place ever, to see her family and friends who were there first, to see her angels, and to see her Jesus. I can see her jaw dropping, her smile breaking across her face, and then, I can hear her say, with a big laugh and a quiet little voice:

“Hot damn, ain’t this something!”

I Can Only Imagine

 

 

I Can Only Imagine, posted to You Tube by Matthew Sgherzi . Words and Music by Bart Millard. Yellow Rose image by FlowersYard.com.