…but Sundays’ a comin’

Well it’s happened. A blog.

I have to admit, I’m not really sure why today happened. Other than upon relieving myself at 3a.m. this morning, because of a late glass of cold milk and my wife’s amazing chocolate chips cookies, I couldn’t go back to sleep. You know that half-sleep state? Not deep, but not fully conscious? I felt compelled for some reason to seriously (vs. whimsically) consider going public with my thoughts. Compelled more so with a nudge. Was it the Lord? I’m really hesitant to “go there” in recent years as I’ve sort of taken it upon myself to actually ask people how they absolutely knew it was God telling them something. Most answers fall into the lame category when you get past all the manure they throw out for evidence. Very few don’t superficially proclaim the christian-ease language so often spouted. But there have been a few who’ve given me great insight, given me authentic believability. Don’t get me wrong, I very much believe God speaks, I just see folks hangin’ their hats on circumstances and calling that heavenly guidance. I’m also hesitant to go there because I’ve been guilty of that too. He spoke this morning though, I’ll try and honor that.

So go and read my “about” deal and receive a glimpse. As I look at Good Friday I’m reminded of the Easter Celebration we had @ The Glen Wednesday. Great worship by Jeff Morrison and company. He’s our resident Worship Leader/Programs Director. A few videos about the cross and people recalling the day they met the Lord. A wonderful message by Mark Heffentrager (I’ll post it for those interested), our Eagle Lake Camp Director,  challenging us to “handle” the empty tomb more appropriately in life as Christians. And then, for a closing, that ending of The Passion of Christ. Gibson’s theology not withstanding, he knocked it out of the park with images of hope and joy, a resurrected Jesus! I’d seen it many times, but as I was looking at where we might want to cue the DVD the day before, on Tuesday, I noticed something I’d never seen before. His eyes. First looking up, then back down but closing them (a prayer maybe) and then opening while looking straight forward. The gaze reminding me of a steely eyed purposeful Jesus as he set His eyes like flint. A gaze of purpose. A gaze of new beginnings.

Yes, it’s Good Friday. The day he lay in the grave. But remember, Sunday’s a comin’