The past 18 months have not been just busy. Time did not just get away. It has been full of so much loss, so many goodbyes, so many pivotal turns and changes and life has raced us along with me panicking and clawing at anything in my reach to slow it down, leaving me scraped up and raw in the process. Its story will unfold as I'm able to tell it, but for tonight, I will leave you with what happened in the backseat on our drive home from our family Easter celebration.
Charlie: "Is it still Easter tomowwow?"
Me: "No, honey, it will be over."
Charlie: "Awwwww!"
Oliver: "But guess what the good news is? Jesus is still alive!"
And there you have it. The Great Commission as preached by my 6-year-old. We pulled into the driveway of our new home, (a long series of stories in itself), and I looked at the cross that Michael built with two 2x4s, lit with white Christmas lights. One thing we grieved leaving behind was living on a hill, overlooking the city, which provided us a breathtaking view and plenty of forwarning about approaching weather...but it also gave others a clear and bright view of our cross lit in the backyard. We had neighbors and friends tell us that what they will miss is seeing that cross shining brilliant every Lenten season.
But the cross came with us. It may not be on a hill but it's right in front of our house. The good news is that it is always there, today, tomorrow, wherever we go, and whatever happens. We are coming out the other side and saying with confidence: Jesus is still alive.
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