Today I got to go on a long, quiet run. It had rained all night and into the morning, so few other people had yet to venture out into the grey day. After a stormy night the morning had dawned cold, damp, and still, but a few miles into my run the sun came out, and in the wet morning the trees sparkled. It seems like spring has come rather slowly this year—it always does when a lovely sunny day is followed by a plunge in temperatures that forces me to reach again for my winter coat. But today new life was undeniably all around me.
As I ran, I couldn’t help thinking that nature was playing out the drama of the Easter weekend we just celebrated. Through the night of Good Friday it is dark and ominous, and the world feels mournful and crumbling at the seams. When the storm subsides, we wait in the cold, still place between death and life. But in the morning—oh, in the morning! Hope springs new, and the resurrection sun pierces the darkness, and we can shout with the chorus of the song: “I’m alive, I’m alive because He lives!” Continue reading