A poem about resurrection.
Appearances are a sham, and Jesus knows it. He is not interested in our pretty leaves, he wants to know what’s happening on the inside. Is our root system mature enough to reach down deep and find the water we need to be fruitful?
I believe in justice. I believe in mercy. They are not mutually exclusive. Both are expressed through the cross. We should absolutely stand for justice, but we should stand in awe of mercy.
One myth among people who follow Jesus is that God just wants us to be ourselves. We rise, we fall, we succeed, we fail, but as long as we can emerge from it all having “stayed true to ourselves”, we win. We call it authenticity, but might it actually be a kind of idolatry?
If you and I can train our spiritual senses to sniff out the presence of God in the midst of soul-deep dehydration, our lives will be restored. Like a new seedling. Ready to truly live again.
Like the natural process that requires intense heat and extreme pressure to transform carbon into diamonds, I began to see beauty emerge from this trying season when I let the pressure fulfill its purpose.
Things don’t change just because a new year begins. Things change because we begin. We begin to take God at his word and live like his promises are true for our lives.
When Jesus was born, love broke into the human realm for the first time. A true love. A radical love. An “I will give my life for you” love that we had never known. A love we didn’t (and still don’t) deserve.