Today I have trusted Jesus for twenty-three years.
I am confident, and I see, that God was moving in my life years before that, and Scripture tells me his eye saw me long before I was born. Following him has not been without trouble, without doubt, without change — but that’s not unexpected. The world is still broken, and under the curse; we’re in the now but not yet, as Jesus’ work, though complete, is not yet brought to fullness.
On this day, which also commemorates the final meal Jesus ate with his disciples — when he washed their feet as the lowliest servant would do, when he explained his coming sacrifice with symbols of bread and wine broken and given to them — I continue to look to him with hope and trust, for today, for tomorrow, and for the glory to come.
In a basket sits my chocolate bunny (dark, of course), Mark’s peanut butter egg, and a set of five mini bunnies for Amy. In the fridge are six uncracked hardboiled eggs waiting for a little girl to color them. Three more that are cracked wait for me to decide how or if to color them. At church there’ll be a breakfast as well as the worship service; I’m either making Easter bread or pecan sticky buns or both.
Things are greening outside, despite the cold and wet; it IS spring.
All these things are pleasant, because all of life, including fun, is in him.