The Way Home

Then Jesus declared, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

—John 6:35

 

I call it a funk—this melancholy mood, this heavy heart I’ve been carrying around all week. This week after Easter, after all my family members have returned to their homes and schedules have returned to normal. Except nothing has felt normal to me. Nothing has felt like home.

 

“Please pray for me,” I asked my friends. And I prayed for myself, Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God (Psalm 42:5).

The Sign

I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture.

—John 10:9 

I picked up the wooden sign I received as a gift. The desk was not the right spot for it.

Over the living room doorway would be perfect!

I rummaged through my tool box for two sturdy nails, all the while rethinking my decision. What if the sign falls while someone is walking underneath it? What if one of my precious grandbabies is crawling through? I shuddered to think of the unthinkable.

Hope Blossoms

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God.   And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope.  Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

—Romans 5:1-5 

I glanced over as I always do when I pass by—at the driveway lined with gorgeous cherry trees. This time I did a double take. What was that? What did that sign say? It looked like “Free Cherry Trees.” 

But I couldn’t go back. I would be late. I’ll check the next time I drive by. 

As I approached the home later in the week, I lifted my foot from the accelerator and zoomed in. Surely that’s what it said. “Free Cherry Trees.” 

How could I pass up an offer like that? I remembered the breath-taking beauty of the trees in bloom. 

I want them! I’ll take them!  

Her Basket, Your Basket

Then she put the child in it and laid it among the rushes by the brink of the river.

—Exodus 2:3b

 

Jochebed. Not a common name. Not a familiar name. But Moses, that’s a different story.  

Actually it’s not.  

Recently I saw the Sight & Sound performance of Moses, which opened with the story of Jochebed, Moses’ mother. While the bible does not tell us much of her story, Sight & Sound  brings forth a creative—and convincing—portrayal of what might have been. 

Kneeling at the riverside, Jochebed places three-month-old Moses in the basket that she has woven of bulrushes and waterproofed with pitch (Exodus 2:3a). All part of her plan—God’s plan—to save her beautiful baby boy (Exodus 2:2) from Pharaoh’s plan of extinction (Exodus 1). Pushing the basket into the current, Jochebed collapses into sobs.  

And my heart breaks for her.