I Believe

Photo by bela_kiefer at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Easter. Jesus has risen. We’ve heard that over and over again. We’ve read the scriptures. We’ve attended the sunrise services. But there is more. 

I am re-posting this for those who may need to read it again, and for those who might not have seen it. It bears repeating, time and again. 

The Resurrection is real. Jesus is real. He is not the figment of anyone’s imagination. I know. I’ve seen him. 

It happened on Palm Sunday. It was one of those lazy mornings.  I sat at the kitchen table enjoying my coffee, and a rare moment of quiet. Everyone else was asleep, even the dog and our three cats. Peace. 

Rather than disrupt it, I decided not to rouse everyone for church. Instead, I would read the scripture of the Passion and meditate.

This time, the often-read words took on a personal meaning. God didn’t die for faceless mankind. He died for me. For my sins. In my place. Willingly. I laid my head on the table and wept. 

Apples, Oranges, and Lemons: the Stuff of Nightmares

Night terrors. They come at bedtime, in the middle of the night, and sometimes early in the morning, terrifying images robbing me of sleep, and peace of mind. Some are so frightening they force me out of bed.

Several tricks help to eradicate these scenes: Solitaire, a book, and a few simple computer games. These, however, are only momentary distractions. It is Scripture that usually exterminates them — for a while.

After a particularly rough night of self-accusation, I rose, went into my study, and opened that day’s devotions. In Living Faith, Fr. Martin Pable, O.F.M. talked about humility. Alcoholics Anonymous gives their members this definition: “Humility means not to make comparisons.”