Responding to Easter: The Nail-Pierced Hands

Spring,

April,

Colorado.

                Raw,

                Rough,

                Relentless.

                                Snow in Spirals,

                                               Swivels,

                                               Swirls.

                                Yesterday – seventy degrees,

                                Today – ten.

Home:

                Sheltered,

                Protected,

                Warm.

                                Living in harsh reality.

                                Pondering eternal truth.

In the midst of The raw,

                         The rough,

                         The relentless,

                                                God is present; God is here.

                                                                I am engraved in the palms
                                                                                        of His hands,

                                                                His nail pierced hands.

“Can a mother forget the infant at her breast, walk away from the baby she bore?

But even if mothers forget, I’d never forget you—never.

Look, I’ve written your names on the backs of my hands.”

Isaiah 49:15, 16 – The Message