Lenten Experiment - Day 39 (A Day of Darkness)

I'm always amazed each morning as I wake up to the view outside my kitchen windows. An easterly view means most mornings I can experience the wonder of specatular light shows that many people call "dawn" as the sun makes its appearance from behind the large hill across the road. Today, misty fog and droplets of rain permeate the blackened hillsides around our home. The spacious carpeted field rolling out before the window, gives way to more fields and bushy tree sentinels guarding the streams and creeks. Then just beyond, the treetops are crowned by the barren limestone hills. These hills are now charcoaled from the recent Spring burning.

It's a most appropriate symbol for the darkness of the day before Easter. As I imagine the events of the first century, it's only fitting that today would be a day filled with regret, doubts, sorrow, fear and the overpowering stench of death.

The annual cycle of grass burning brings pungency, dense smoke to the area, ribbons of fire across the night skies, but ultimately and most importantly, it brings new life to the prairie--germinating the prairie grass seeds and revitalizing their growth across the hills. Life and death - the circle of the prairie.

So is Easter--the ultimate completion of the life and death cycle prophesied from the Ancient of Days.

A new dawn is approaching - it is imminent, certain - reassuring is the promise of Easter morning.

The Lord's lovingkindnesses never cease; His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is His faithfulness. (Lam 3:22, 23 NASB)

Lenten Experiment - Day 32 (Frequent Companions)

Life and death are frequent companions.

This week I've seen them once again vying for my attention, silently sitting at my doorstep, patiently watching and waiting. They have stories to tell. Sadness and joy; struggle and pain; beauty and hope.

In the midst of the birth pangs of Spring, tiny reminders of the shortness and sacredness of life surrounded us. From the flattened toad on the driveway to the gnawed-on rabbit I found in our yard yesterday, life cycles are an imminent part of this life. Even the turn of seasons reminds us of this fact - it is ever before us.

It's also evident in the illness that has afflicted one of our 13-year-old male dogs. Watching his deterioration the past couple of weeks has been disheartening. Both he and his littermate, Chubby, have been hardy souls. Just last week, he was following me up to the barn to feed horses, as has always been his habit. Then, this week, with each passing day, he showed increasingly more distress.

Crackers himself has survived being hit by a car and Parvovirus and then last summer he was stepped on by one of our horses. Life in the country can be a challenge and we've seen that in these many circumstances, and in the struggles we currently face. He's a survivor though. He's proved it over and over again.

Tonight when I got home from work he was more alert and even ate some meat I hand-fed him. He showed signs of feeling better and I was encouraged. He's drinking water better and I'm ever hopeful that "this too shall pass."

When I started this blog yesterday I honestly thought that it was the end for our sweet dog, but as I've found in every situation--there is ALWAYS hope.

Whether it's the hope of new life in the colors of Spring or the hope of a peaceful passing to a new future, there is ALWAYS hope.

My soul, wait in silence for God only, For my hope is from Him. (Ps. 62:5 NASB)