He walks always gently into the unfinished business of my life. Quietly, he removes the daunting weight of painful secrets I have never shared elsewhere. He dismisses my regrets, after listening patiently to them with a caring mercy. He sets aside my suspicion that I’m unacceptable in his presence, and challenges my deepest fears that I will be overwhelmed by the unfairness of life. He even knows I will visit those fears again, and he will return to renew my faltering hope. He calms my anxieties with his reassuring shalom, and offers me grace and perspective to my troubling worries.

While they were lashing him with stripes, he was stripping away my shame and selfishness. While they were nailing him to a wooden beam, he was nailing my failures to the wall—to free me from their haunting power. While they were burying him in a cave, he was busy burying my frailty and fickleness. When they believed in the silence of the grave, he was transforming silence into a song.

And, when they thought the song was dead, he broke through walls of my apathy and doubt, singing a melody of hope—and resurrection. If he can live again, then I can learn to live.

A SONG

Teach us, dear Lord, to number our days;
that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.
Oh, satisfy us early with Thy mercy,
that we may rejoice and be glad all of our days.
Establish Thou the work of thy hands.
And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us;
and establish Thou the work of our hands, dear Lord.

A BLESSING

Let nothing disturb thee,
nothing affright thee;
all things are passing,
God never falters!
Patient endurance attaineth to all things;
who God possesseth
in nothing is wanting;
alone God sufficeth.