Easter

Grey Good Friday

The clock ticks, the trees drip.

The grey day rouses sluggishly from its bed.

Existence stretches to the horizon.

The only landmarks being the essential business of survival,

Food, cooking, bills, shopping and the welcome soft comfort of sleep and oblivion between each day.

Harsh grief makes fewer unwelcome visits now.

Enough to ensure it’s not forgotten.

The mind’s safe that houses memories may be opened a fraction now and then in hope of feeling near once more.

But it can never be left open for long before it must be slammed tight against sorrow’s tentacles that would squirm out and entangle one.

God makes the good rain to fall on the follower and the prodigal, yet I see some dear servants of God who share none of His blessings of job or home or spouse or children or mother, why? They serve but see no reward, they show love yet feel none in return, they try and in the world’s eye constantly fail.

So where is God in this? Where was his might and power? Where is his comfort and help?

Is this the result of our living or the sins of the fathers being laid of daughters and sons?

He cares how we live, then does he not care how life treats us?

Today he’s on the cross for humanity’s eternity, but what about the living today?

I look to the sky for answers.

In the silence the trees drip and the clock ticks on.

Easter Sunday

I stop my bike. The birds are singing in the woods, or rather so many different bird songs are heard.

The warbling of the robin, the peeps of the blue tits, the great tits’ varying songs, the coarse echoed call of the pheasant in the field, they sound out from low and high, near and far.

The verge is sprinkled with yellow celandine, groups of daffs are visible in the woods, brilliant green moss fur-lines the trees and a multitude of different plants make infinite patterns with overlapping leaves in the verge.

You ask “Why, why is there suffering?”.

The answer is too hard to understand, you have not the capacity or experience to begin to know.

But do you think that God does not know of the suffering? Not one sparrow falls without his knowledge and, yes He loves them all. He knows the suffering of them, of His people and of His one dear Son.

The question “Why?” is good for asking why you are here, Jesus gave the answer “Love.” “Love your God with all your mind and with all your strength and with all your heart, and love your neighbour as yourself”.

Do not ask “Why suffering and who is to blame”. All are to blame, some more and some less. But ask instead “What now? Now this has happened, what should I do now?” There is plenty to do, plenty in need of love, show it, give it, spread it in Jesus name.

Jesus did, to the end and beyond. He is risen, you are forgiven, and thus my servant, your wife, is safe with me. Go, do, He is risen, He is risen indeed.

Alleluia

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