Graves
Six weeks ago, we smeared ashes on our foreheads and began wrestling with our mortality. We voluntarily entered the Wilderness in our own ways. This season is the shake-up of our complacency, a jump-start out of our tired habits. It's the shedding of winter's dormant coat as the earth begins to wake up with crocuses breaking through the ground. They are like alarms reminding us that we are surrounded by patterns of resurrection, death to life. An image kept invading my psyche like an unwelcome companion: I stared into an empty grave for 40 days, knowing that someone would be laid in it. It became a battle within my heart. Because to follow Jesus--to REALLY follow him means that I would carry a cross too. I don't want my playbook to include pain. I try to insulate myself from what hurts. I try to stay one step ahead of heartbreak. We would all choose the shortcuts, distraction, even oblivion, rather than willingly endure the unrelenting ache of a broken spirit- Anything...