HOly WEek.

This morning I have risen earlier than usual because I seek the risen Christ and I hope to find him in the early dawn.

Holy week is upon me and I feel neither holy nor connected the holy.

So I rise and I greet the brightening horizon of this new day. In the quiet hush of early morning I ask out loud,

"Where is the risen Christ? Where are you Lord?"

The wind brushes my skin and goosebumps rise.

I ask again, a little more plaintively this time,

"Where is the risen Christ? Where are you Lord?"

The squirrels chatter in reply,

"He is here! He is here!"

I listen quietly and the birds begin to chirp their praise, "He is here! He is here!"

I raise my hands and face to the sky and I ask, "Lord Jesus are you here?"

A gentle mist of rain falls and the birds chirp and the squirrels chatter and my tears begin to well up from within my desolate soulscape.

He is here! The Lord Jesus is here!

My Holy week has begun....