An Easter Basket of Blessings

Grace: Moment by Moment-weekly column

An Easter Promise

Wounded and hurting, pain lances the depths of my soul
I wondered, would I ever again be whole?
The wounds only bled more
as I battled the bruising mind games of the dark lord.
As the thunder of guns echo the reverberations of St. Monica's bells
my mind can only handle so much grief--real
and anticipatory. How do I cope, let go, and seize life again?
Tears mix with the drumming rain
as the color guard moves into place
I question, "When innocents die, does faith?"
Who do I turn to? Which voice is clear?
When Jesus calls, His voice is harder and harder to hear.
All around
bombings and images of death surround.
Confused for a moment as lightning flashed, I froze
in the backwash the image of Christ at the garden tomb arose.
His nail-scarred hands spread wide
and with Love shining from His eyes,
He spoke to my heart, "My child, I died
so that you might have Everlasting Life.
Come unto Me and I will give you rest."
Then He gathered my weeping form to His chest.
At the grave of my father I rejoiced,
for I knew he too had made the right choice,
to trust God
no matter what life throws at one.

Written on:
March 18, 2004

Written by:
Belle Anne Leslie