The Last of Lent: for my 20-Year Anniversary


This morning, way before the sun was up, the birds were conversing.

It was a heavy conversation, this back and forth chirp and song, like they were trying to wake up the world from sleep with their news.

I don’t know what day Easter really happened on, but I can feel its pulse inside of us today.

The pews of the church are a little fuller on this day, because we are looking for hope, we can feel the world shift a little when we see that we are loved by a powerful, compassionate Mystery of a God.

I was baptized on Easter 20 years ago, when I was seven.

I still remember it, the flush of intimacy that came over me when I rose out of the lukewarm water, something about that moment that pulled me a little closer in to the Mystery of Jesus.

The reality that we walk in today is that resurrection happens in constant rhythm with our lives.

Everyday we go down beneath the waterline and come back up again, renewed.

But today I remember that moment a little better, and I look at my boys and wonder what exactly they think of Easter, what they think of Lent and of these seasons we celebrate and remember.

I hope that they find resurrection alive in us, the pulse of God moving through our lives into ourselves and each other.

I hope they find that the cross means something today, just as it did yesterday, just as it did twenty years ago, as it will mean something twenty years from now.

May today be both the beginning of something and the continuation of something.

And in all things, may we seek resurrection.




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