The Grave Could NOT Hold Him

Reposting, because I am remembering. 
Easter has always been about the Cross. 
Easter has always been what we need. 
Even when we don’t understand. 
The antidote to what ails us. 
Always. 

He is risen!

Just like he said. 
His word; Truth. 

He is risen. 

He is coming back again. 
All of creation will bow. 
While we wait. 
We seek to live as He did. 
We bend knees to the ground in humble submission, as we ponder the walk to the cross. 
And as the day dawns we live in hope. 

Matthew 28:6
He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.

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Easter 2014

The boy leaves me undone. 

Most days are difficult. 

Each word is poison and I can’t begin to help him. 

He’s lost a brother.
 Dealt with his beloved father being so sick and he’s 14. 

I would come unglued. 

He’s still fragile in the faith. 

And he’s lashing out. 

But sometimes there are glimpses of what is to come. 

The veil pulled back and the blue eyes shine. 

There is humor and there is a sensitivity, so like his fathers. 

This growing and stretching is hard on me. 

So, when there is a calm.
 I embrace it. 

When he leaves me undone.
 I count 1,000 gifts. 

I leave Lilies at Elijah’s grave.

No headstone marks his space. . . yet. 

The Lilies a marker.
Something to do. 

Some way to serve.

I place them. 
Feeling the deep ache. 

And then I hear it. 

That blonde haired, blue eyed boy hollers out the window. 

He shouts it; loud;

Mom! What are you doing? 
Elijah hated those things. 

They stink. 

And right in the middle of the graveyard. 

In the deep crevice of missing and longing; I laugh. 

I cry. 

And I am sure I made other noises that are not becoming. 

But the grace that fills the heart when the laughter comes is warm. 

That boy has left me undone. 

Oh to be a people that can laugh and find joy 
even when the hurt is crushing. 

Psalm 30:5

weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.

I left the stinky Lilies at the grave. 

One for my mom, one for my son.

I brought the other home. 

One for my in-laws. 

I will plant that stinky lily somewhere here. 

I haven’t been able to grow anything; but this, I will try. 

Maybe I will see it grow. 

If we can’t bend and yield to the Savior’s leading, 
we will be left behind. 

We miss the grace he longs to pour out on his people. 

Even in a graveyard, there is hope. 

I am reminded of the “Dance In The Graveyard” song Ana sang at her concert in the fall. 

The drumming brings me to my knees missing my redheaded drummer. 

He would have loved this song. 

For me, it showed the joy of the sweet reunion we all long for. 

Someday we will be reunited with our loved ones. 

If you have surrendered and bowed low to the giver of life, this gift is yours. 

We will laugh, and we will dance. 

Because, He Has Risen. 

Psalm 30:11

You turned my wailing into dancing; 

you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,