Easter In the Dark and Gray
It's Easter morning. A time of resurrection, renewal, rebirth. But the sky was gray and snow covered the cars and roofs. I was reminded of this short piece I wrote for Exploring Sainthood a few years ago.
Light, Love, and God are there, even in our darkest times. Growth is taking place beneath the surface even when the flowers have yet to break the surface. The empty places break our hearts with grief. It's easy to push that grief away. But to sit with that grief is to open our hearts to the gifts that await us.
Resurrection. Renewal. Rebirth.
What is waiting to return transformed? What new gift is waiting to be born?
For Easter morning, maybe those are the wrong questions.
Perhaps the better question is what has been transformed or born that we have yet to discover and understand?
The songs running through my head this morning are not the ones of triumph and celebration. Instead, songs like this come to mind.
The Beauty in Unfulfilled Expectations
Minnesota sunrises can inspire awe, especially on days that are destined to be cloudy and gray. The sun on the clouds can be breath-taking. Needing a good dose of awe and wonder, one morning I decided to take a break from my work to watch the birth of a new day.
But this sunrise was different. I’ve watched hundreds or maybe even thousands of sunrises, but I had never seen this before. Or maybe I had, but I had dismissed the beauty of the moment because it didn’t fit my expectations of what a sunrise should be. I waited for the hints of orange and pink on the horizon, but they never came. It was so cloudy that even the sun couldn’t break through to paint its dazzling picture. It seemed as if nothing could penetrate the dark cover of clouds. But still…little by little…it got lighter outside
Sometimes we want to see beauty. We’re desperate for spectacular colors. Instead, we just see the light creep in little by little. Not bright light. Not clear or even partially obscured light. But light seeming to come from nowhere. Light that just is.Light, like Love, is there whether or not we can see the source.
Light, Love, and God are there, even in our darkest times. Growth is taking place beneath the surface even when the flowers have yet to break the surface. The empty places break our hearts with grief. It's easy to push that grief away. But to sit with that grief is to open our hearts to the gifts that await us.
Resurrection. Renewal. Rebirth.
What is waiting to return transformed? What new gift is waiting to be born?
For Easter morning, maybe those are the wrong questions.
Perhaps the better question is what has been transformed or born that we have yet to discover and understand?
The songs running through my head this morning are not the ones of triumph and celebration. Instead, songs like this come to mind.
Comments
Post a Comment