Resurrection is worth waiting for.īut yes, January has been bleaker than usual. I miss them, but I am content to wait, because the later they bloom, the less likely they are to get zapped by frost. The rest of the buds have kept closed since, and though they often bloom at the end of January, right around Keren’s heaven-day, they haven’t yet this year. Sure enough, the temperatures plummeted by January 2, and the few blooms drooped and browned. I was happy to see the color after two weeks of northern winter deadness, but any time that tree blooms early I flinch because I know the blooms won’t last. Our Japanese maple put out a couple premature blooms, cups of fuschia held against the gray sky. We arrived home from Michigan late New Year’s Eve, and New Year’s Day was cloudy and warm. Our local church limps through the process of identifying who we are and who we should be, and what hurts need to be healed. politics grow increasingly partisan, Russia bullies Ukraine, China presses harder and harder on those within its borders…and without. Maybe it’s that the world seems to be in more and more chaos-Covid and other illnesses cancel events, U.S. Maybe it’s the fact that my friend Pam faced the first anniversary of her son’s death this January. Maybe it’s the knowledge that this March I’ll hit half a century, and that Kraig and my kids and their many cousins are speeding toward adulthood. Maybe it was the thread running throughout the visit reminding us that our parents are all getting older, and Kraig’s parents are facing serious health challenges, and I’ve had a few conversations with friends my age who are facing that same realization. Maybe it’s the fact that we had a busy, wonderful visit with Kraig’s family over Christmas that ended with a dragging cold (just the regular kind, but still blah). As much as I hope and long for the eventual physical resurrection, I needed the reminder that there can be other kinds of resurrection in my life right now.įor some reason this January has been darker than the past few years. There is so much life in that word, and I know my friend was particularly considering the emotional and spiritual aspects of resurrection for her and her family this year. We’ve had thirteen years of looking toward resurrection. This past Friday, January 28, the day after my friend told us her word, was the thirteenth anniversary of Keren’s death. We had that verse, along with a cardinal and dogwood blossoms, etched onto Keren’s gravemarker. They remind me of Philippians 3:20-21:īut our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. Cardinals symbolize many things, one of which is heavenly visitors who bring messages from loved ones in heaven, but I’ve always thought of them in relation to resurrection. I immediately pictured a bright red cardinal (I’d just seen one with his mate earlier that day in the crepe myrtle off our back patio). I didn’t realize till that moment how much I needed that word. “Yes, I have,” our friend said, a smile illuminating her face. Last Thursday a friend of mine asked a mutual friend, “Have you chosen your word for the year?”
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