It is still cold outside and deep, deep snow still covers the ground.
I shake my head as I light the first candle on Wednesday evening, as I hang the first Scripture just before we sit down to share our simple dinner together. I grumble inwardly,
There are some
places in the world where the season approaching Easter is warm and all things Easter-y. Not here. Hardly ever here.
And then, my heart catches in my throat as I realize how fitting it is, how appropriate it is that while we remain in this season of dormancy and death, we begin to look ahead. We look ahead to
Jesus, to the only true Bringer of Life.
When we were yet dead in our trespasses and sin,
He died for us.
Because He is good.
Because He saw something in us worth redeeming. Beneath that sin-scarred exterior, right through to the sin-marred interior of our hearts, He saw something worth giving His life for. Something worth buying back.
Beneath that snow, beneath that layer of ice and the barren exterior, there lies life. Life waiting to be called forth by the sun.
And so I light our candle and I hang our Scriptures, one by one by one. There is snow on the ground and there are snowflakes in my window, but there is life waiting to be called forth.
Called forth by the Son.
