Frankly, On Faith: I almost forgot Easter.
by Molly Jo Realy @RealMojo68
I have a confession to make. A terrible, dark, sinful confession. Can I trust you?
I almost forgot it was Easter.
It’s true. I have been running ninety miles an hour and breaking through that end-race tape only to find it was really just the beginning of another race. Ever feel that way? Yeah. Glad I got my Skechers on.
At some point I ran to the water cart and saw the calendar. That can’t be right. But it is. Easter is upon us, and I’ve done very little to prep for it.
What’s that? You’re in the same race? Sweet. Let me share some refreshment with you.
God doesn’t care about the prep work.
He cares that you showed up.
You know why? Because that’s what He did. He was, is, and will always be here. He showed up. In the beginning. Before there was a beginning. He was the Beginning. And He will be the end. He overcame what we thought was the end. In Him, there is no end.
Wait, you say. How can you have a beginning without an end? Good question. I don’t have a good answer, except to point to Him. Because He is what I know, and He’s way smarter than you or I can ever be.
Some things require only faith. Some things we will never understand, but that’s okay. Not knowing why or how doesn’t make anything less real. I don’t know how my shoes are manufactured, but they still protect my feet on the pavement.
From the beginning, before the beginning, in the beginning, God and the Word were united, the same. They came together even though they already were. It’s like a wind picking up more wind; they’re the same but separate and stronger and together and unique and a whole . . . You can’t separate a breeze from a wisp.
God showed up. In the beginning. Now. Later. He was, is, and always will be, here.
And here you are, showing up. Now. In this moment. And you’ve been here. For a second, a minute, an hour, a day . . . It doesn’t matter. Time is no element to God. You are here. He is here. We are here together so He is here, now, with us.
Time cannot hold Him. The Grave cannot hold Him. He is too big and great and powerful and mighty to be held.
Except by your hand.
Hey. Do you see that? He’s smiling and reaching. He wants to run the rest of the race with you. Will you let Him join your journey?
With running shoes and a hand to hold,
And Frankly, My Dear . . . That’s all she wrote!