Posts tagged as:

Easter

It’s Wednesday.

by Jessica on April 20, 2011

in Living Authentically,Living Passionately

It’s Wednesday. The middle of Holy Week. I’ve hardly noticed, except for this twitching desire to write something that reflects the mystery of that journey to the cross. In random moments I think, ‘

What would it have been like to be there?

To have seen Jesus teaching in the synagogue, healing on the streets, crying over the city…what would have been like to see his face?

To hear his voice?’

I want to know Jesus.

My present reality has very little dust to drag my feet in, no Seder to prepare, no foreign occupation. My present reality is comfortable and confused with failure hanging by a thread over head.

I want to see his face.

I try to remind myself that each day is a chance to start new, that this failure hanging by a thread is not real. But, redemption is real.

There is no need to try to save myself, to out-perform the past or the future or the person next to me.

Jesus is real.

Today.

I don’t have to wait until Sunday for ressurection life. I have it now.

And yet, I live feeling covered in a cloud, but unlike Moses’ that gave him the face of an angel mine hovers impeding the way. I can’t see through its thickness. I think I know, but I don’t. I grapple for truth, some sure foundation.

I know what it is. It’s that ugly self creeping up on me, trying to take me back down the paths that have long been closed. It ties its ugly lies around my wrist and slithers on the path encircling my ankle. I swat the tightness. I know this is death coming back. I know it’s trying to tell me “This is the way. Walk in it.”

Lies. I know it.

But death? It’s so much easier than life.

Why is that? Why is this path to life so hard? The dying, the confessing…the ‘I can’t do it by myself!’ Why is it so hard for an independent perfectionist like me?

Death. It’s easy. You just have to say yes.

Give in a little here and a little there. And, “Tada!” You’ve been captured.

But life is truly a fight. This I know well. It’s a hard trudge, uphill to the holy city.

I say I want sanctification. I say I want to know Jesus, to see his face, but I look over my shoulder to the dark valley below and it looks so nice. Comfortable. There’s no giving up there.

It’s have all you want with no consequence! Except, you know…the end. The place where you stand face to face with the Savior King and say, “My way is better than yours. I really lived it up…had whatever I wanted when I wanted it. Will you let me into your kingdom?”

I don’t want to be the person who looks Jesus in the face and says, “I know you sacrificed for me and all. That was pretty generous, but…you see, I really liked to do my own thing. I’m sure you understand.”

Oh, he’ll understand. He’ll understand that death caught me tight in its talons, seduced me with words of freedom and filled my throat with pleasures leaving me to drown under its weight.

Death is easy. It asks no sacrifice.

But life is the hard way. Life asks much. It’s death and death again. But through this crazy life-death, Jesus is made real in me. In you. In us.

It is His stripes that heal my broken soul on this midweek day of a holiest week. His stripes heal today.

As this perfectionist marches to Easter, I’m giving up this solitary life…for the umpteenth time and I’ll likely give it up a million more before I see Jesus, before I hold his hand and touch his face.

I’m giving up my will for His. I’m giving up my foolish tangible comforts for the Spirit that is eternal comfort. I’m giving up fleeting entertainment for holiness that breeds life.

I’m turning my eyes back to face the rocky soil of the mountain and I’m climbing.

Tagged as: authentic, Easter, Holy Week, perfectionist

{ 3 comments }

The Sound of Praise & Palm Branches

by Jessica on April 17, 2011

in Easter,Living Passionately

Sitting on the steps, I wait for my sister to finish her errands. I hear whispers among the crowd…someone is coming.

“Who?”

“Is it him? Really?”

“I’ve heard of the works of his hand.”

I stand, coming out from the shade of the buildings. Excitement fills the air.

Children gesturing friends to “Come, come quick!” Women carrying baskets ladened for the Passover meal huddle together with fingers pointing toward the road. Men stop their work. Soldiers begin to notice the crowd’s excitement as their heads turn side to side trying to figure out what’s going on.

“There he is!” I hear someone shout. A boy, maybe. The people have grown thick and I can’t quite see the voice in the crowd. I look up, but see nothing.

“Who is this that is coming?” I ask a young boy as he runs down the stairs. “Jesus! It’s Jesus of Nazareth!”

“Nazareth?” I mumble to myself, “What good could come out of Nazareth?”

And then I remember the stories. Stories of lepers being cleansed, boys being set free from demons, even the man called Lazarus raised from the dead all by the hand of Jesus.

Could this be him?

Pushing my way down the steps into the crowd, people are beginning to throw their cloaks on the ground, some even lay palm branches. Who carries cut leaves with them? They knew he was coming? What does this mean?

I hear the sound of hooves beating along the path and there he is riding a donkey of all things. A man who heals and raises the dead on an ass. Men run into the streets quickly laying their branches on the ground, their exaltation loud, their joy high,

“Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in the highest!”

Throughout the crowd I hear the ringing of his praises,

“Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!”

A woman places her hand on my shoulder to balance and says, “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

He’s coming closer. He looks like any ordinary man…their is nothing remarkable in his appearance. I see a pharisee step out from the crowd, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples,” he demands.

In a joyous, most confident voice the man on the donkey speaks, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”

Stones crying out?

I can already hear the shouts of the crowd following him,

“Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, even the King of Israel!”

Is this man a prophet of Elohim? His followers call him son of David, is he the Messiah? Is he the one to sit on the throne of David forever? Could this man–only a man–be our deliverance? Him?

I watch, carefully, as he passes. Looking into his face, I am met with the eyes of the One who sees me.

Out of the depths of my perplexed soul, the words roll off my tongue, barely a whisper, “Who is this?”

Next to me I hear the contented sigh of a disciple, “This is the prophet Jesus, from Nazareth of Galilee.”

(The Triumphal Entry: Mt. 21:1-11; Mk. 11:1-11 ; Lk. 19:28-40; Jn. 12:12-19 )

photo credit

Tagged as: Easter, Lent, writing

{ 9 comments }

Contemplating the Cross {giveaway}

by Jessica on March 3, 2011

in Lent

Lent is quickly approaching and strange as it seems with each year that passes I find that I am more endeared to the season of Lent.

There’s something about stopping in the middle of the crazy of life and reflecting on the gravity…the heaviness…of our sin and looking up to see the hope of Christ that brings me a sense security and peace.

It’s only been a few years that I’ve personally observed Lent, but I find that it was changed how I look at sin and made Good Friday and Easter more than just a passing holiday. It’s made me dig down deep.

There’s a beauty in surrender that captures me and that I love.

And isn’t that what Lent really is? Surrendering of yourself, your ways, your rightness…it’s succumbing to the holiness and love of a Great God and King to find yourself completely and utterly safe…secure.

******************

Contemplating the Cross is a book that has blessed me many times as I’ve journeyed through Lent. It’s a journey through the 40 days of Lent,

“that can make the central event of human history take root within your soul.

Prepare to be profoundly changed as you walk with Christ through His final hours–

[...] With daily exercises designed to lead you into a new depth of understanding, Rhodes helps you experience for yourself the Passion narratives—the sights, sounds, smells, and emotional weight of the events that took place 2,000 years ago.”

We’ve had an extra copy laying around our house for awhile, so I thought I’d pass it along to one of you.