Why Do You Look For the Living Among the Dead?

     The dead. Stuff. Trinkets. Cars. Rituals. Inanimate. All worthwhile things, but dead. We look for security and meaning from the touchable, where dead things lie. When, instead, the place where the fully alive resides, is in the intangible One, Jesus. He is alive.

Fate, and Good Friday

     Fate. It is a curious thing. Who will ever know the number of times we are unknowingly spared? One never knows how many times we leave our homes early or late and miss being in a serious or fatal accident. And, what are the odds?

     "What-if" in 2010 the forever long cashier lines had not caused two of us to wait outside of the store to notice others slipping on a rain-drizzled, undetectable and slicker-than-snot sheet of ice-lined Chicago pavement? A vulnerable, off-balance, 9-months pregnant mother-to-be could have experienced a devastating fall with residual complications. That protected mother-to-be was my daughter.

    "What-if"… after years of not seeing the gyno because of foolish gyno-phobia (when trying to schedule the needed appointment for our daughter) I had failed to heed the receptionist's urging to schedule my own appointment? Two months later I would have ignored a fast-appearing lump. Even after my gyno's stern heed for a first-ever mammo, I still delayed, for a precious 3 months. Denial is powerful. That lump was aggressive, but it could have had more time to become even deadlier. Whoa.

     And then there is the complex twist of fate. Walking a very short distance, at end-of-the-workday 5:00 p.m., across a seemingly rain-drizzled pavement, to the passenger’s side of the car. But, wait. It is not rain-drizzled pavement after all. Deja-vu. There is an undetectable, slicker-than-you-know-what sheet of ice-lined Ozarks pavement. The first person to face the ice misjudges it and literally falls victim to its deception. Hard. Everyone exiting that door wobbles and slides, for their bone-loving lives, except for the one co-worker who experienced a shattered hip.

     We all have “If-only’s” and “What-if’s” in our lives. If-only the ice started falling 5 minutes later. If-only the boots gripped better. If-only the planned 3:00 p.m. departure time was met. There was no ice at that time. But then again, the twist sees “what-if” the fall had happened a week earlier? or instead months later? Different timing would have sadly overshadowed a one-time-only event or future fleeting family experiences. That co-worker fell the week after her first grandchild's birth, and she realized the fortuitous timing of her fall. She was there for the birth, and months later, after a lengthy recovery, was whole enough to lift her precious crawler.

     A solemn Good Friday helps us to remember a fate that changed the course of history. Fate that allowed grief and tragedy. "If-only" Judas had not chosen to betray Jesus. "If-only" the Jews had realized Jesus’ divinity. What were the odds?

     "If-only’s." They twist to two unthinkable questions… "What-if" events had unfolded differently that first Good Friday? "What-if" spotless Jesus had not died for my sins?!?

...to give His life, for me...

     Fate. Over 2,000 years ago it played out in a gruesome and complicated way. But a twist of fate was on our side. God's twist was unbeknownst to most. Jesus was sent to this earth for an undercover, and, in a way, fatal or fateful mission. To earn the keys of death, hell, and the grave. 

    Fate sadly mourns, "Woe is me." But, spirit-eyes, open to twists of fate, see the fortuitous silver lining. A twist that motivates the subdued "wow" whisper: "God's only Son died for me. His body cannot be found among the decomposing and rotting. He is timeless. He arose. He is Savior, and I am saved!"

For God so loved the world he gave
his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish
but have eternal life (John 3:16).

     Jesus is compelling. He is alive. May I walk surrendered. Transformed. And, most importantly, walk humbly before my God... 

     ...The humble-factor, for certain, is a daily, ever-wobbly and sliding feat.