Category Archives: Easter

We want the details.

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Our Birgitta began drawing faces at age 3 and never stopped, so with all those years of practice, her portraits have become (I believe) quite good.

When she was little, though, she drew primitively like most children do. As her attention span lengthened and she focused on one piece of paper longer, she added more detail. This picture was drawn at age 4, and like all her creations, I loved asking her about it.

“Who’s this?” I said.

“It’s a girl. She’s thinking.”

“About what?”

“Cookies,” she said. “She loves cookies.”

“She has a pretty bow,” I said, noticing its three parts colored differently.

“For her curly hair.”

We talked about the elbow marks, the hairy eyebrows, the beautiful teeth, the dramatic makeup, and the curly bangs. I saw how she’d carefully colored the inside of her mouth red and put pupils in the eyes, nostrils on the nose.

Life’s important stuff is in the details. When we buy a new car, we want to know everything it can do. When we purchase a product at the grocery store, we flip it over to read its ingredients. When someone has a baby, we want the blow-by-blow of labor and delivery.

Our quest for detail is also true when we ponder the events of Good Friday, but God hasn’t told us everything we want to know. I’d like to know how much detail Jesus himself knew ahead of time about those last 48 hours.

When did he learn Judas was a traitor? Did he know it when he first chose him? What about the bogus trials he’d have to endure and the humiliation he would experience through the mocking of his captors? Did he know the extent of that ahead of time? Did he know his disciples would run when he needed them most? His words to Peter about betrayal hinted that he did.

Did he have an inkling of how brutal the Roman torture would be? And did he really believe his Father would turn away completely? Surely these details had all come clear by the time he was agonizing in the garden, face to the ground.

Tonight at our church we attempted to participate in some of the details of those last 48 hours as we walked The Stations of the Cross: tasting his salty tears, lifting his heavy cross, tearing fabric to represent his torn flesh. We think maybe if we knew more, we might be able to participate more in his suffering.

Though Scripture tells us much, a great deal is left unsaid. But just like the detail in Birgitta’s current drawings has become more complete (at left), I believe Jesus will one day let us know the particulars of his incredible sacrifice. It’ll happen when we’re living with him in paradise, and when we get the full knowledge of those last 48 hours, we’ll go flat on our faces before him, awed that he endured so much…

…for us.

“Grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior, Christ Jesus, who has destroyed death and has brought life.” (2 Timothy 1:9,10)

Giving Back

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This blog has always been a therapy for me, a place I eagerly look forward to going every day. It began as a bulletin board for family and friends when Nate was sick, then morphed into a place where I could work through the struggles of new widowhood. Readers were gracious and supportive then, and still are today.

Looking back over recent posts I see how they’ve become less and less about me and more and more about God. He’s become my shining star, a gleaming guide who is front and center in my life and on my blog. Writing about him will always be satisfying, and because of who he is, I’ll never run out of material.

Something impressive through the last couple of years is how extensively he has delivered a wealth of wisdom to me through you, dear reader. You’ve responded to my posts by sharing nuggets of gold, braving the comment boxes and the contact button in a way that has benefited me, and also other readers on this site.

Much of what you’ve written I’ve copied and saved in a cyberfile labeled, “Interesting Stuff,” and I can’t count the times I’ve returned to this compilation to hear you again. The following comment, left by a reader named Tina (10/27/09,“Tired”) seems to apply in a potent way to Easter week:

“I’m writing this with a hotel pen that says, ‘See the world. Stay with us.’ Seems a contradiction, since the world is a large place, and a hotel is not. When Jesus speaks, there’s no contradiction. ‘In my Father’s house there are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you.’ What I often forget is that He also stayed to prepare me for that place. Thank God for each morning’s new mercies… a cup of coffee, a warm hug, a baby’s drooling prattle, Scriptures that swell with meaning, then fit snugly into the day’s arsenal of resources. Another day. Another boatload of God’s tender compassions.” 

Easter week is the perfect time to zero in on the long list of resources that are mine (and yours) as a result of Jesus Christ’s willingness to take my sins into himself and suffer his Father’s incalculable wrath. For me.

He died, yet he lives. He departed, yet he stayed. He takes, yet he gives abundantly, an “arsenal of resources” with which to live our lives, every day.

And one of the valuable resources he’s given me, has been you.

“Because of God’s tender mercy, the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us,to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, and to guide us to the path of peace.” (Luke 1:78-79)

Difficult Directions

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All of us drive absent-mindedly once in a while, especially if we’re moving along familiar roads. But when we’re in new territory, we have to depend on the signs to be accurate.

This week I was on an unfamiliar 5-lane street during rush hour in heavy traffic when I came upon something strange. At the edge of a strip-mall parking lot, a stop sign seemed out of place and was confusing drivers on the main thoroughfare. Were they supposed to stop? Some were. Others weren’t. And cars leaving the mall parking lot were entering traffic without so much as a pause.

Because of a Starbucks on the corner, I turned into the lot and found a parking spot, then walked back to the stop sign for a better look. It had been tampered with, swiveled 90 degrees, causing drivers to do the opposite of what they were supposed to do.

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Early this morning, while trying to get my heart ready for Palm Sunday, I thought about the traffic flow into Jerusalem that day 2000 years ago. Of course it was mostly foot-traffic then, though there was one very important donkey with the Son of God sitting on it.

When adoring crowds pushed toward Jesus in a type of Jerusalem rush-hour, there was no impatience or road rage, only joy and adoration. His miracles of healing had shown people he could do things no one else could do, and everyone on the Jerusalem road that day was deferring to him as part of a plan to make him their king.

There were no stop signs, and popular enthusiasm was propelling Jesus in a forward direction. A few days later, however, the “directional signs” had been tampered with and spun around. The zeal to make him king had come to a screeching halt, and the mob of well-wishers had turned on him.

Thankfully one person continued in a forward direction anyway, despite discouraging signs all around him. Jesus resolutely drove himself toward the cross and his own excruciating death while his supporters hightailed it in other directions. But instead of being influenced by the reversal of the traffic flow around him, he looked only to his Father for a definitive sign of what to do. He knew God never changed or amended his directives.

Although Jesus had been to Jerusalem many times, he knew this visit would be different than all the others. He dreaded it but continued his forward pace anyway.

As we took communion at church today, reminding ourselves of his shed blood and broken body on our behalf, I was flooded with appreciation that even when he could have made a turn, he resolutely kept walking straight ahead, all the way to Calvary.

“He steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:51)