That’s our name – our
scriptural name. Pay attention, don’t brush it off. Remembering that it is what
God always calls us can bring us out of a funk. We need to remember.
The liturgy has brought us
into the brilliant light of the resurrection. We are almost blinded by the
beauty of Word as he emerges from the tomb like some magnificent butterfly: the
same as went in, but now so different.
Pay attention to what comes after misery and death.
So, as beloved, why must we be careful? We need to stop a bit and
remember: this is not only about Jesus. It’s about the beloved too. It’s our story, closer to us than our cheek.
We know who we are, and whose we are. No mistakes, no hidden sins, no moments of losing it
can change that. We are the beloved. In our deepest darkest sorrows, when the
darkness is so thick we can cut it with a knife, we need to remember our name. This
simple practice may just be our “hand-up” when we are really down.
The paschal mystery story
we have just retold ourselves is our story. We will know rejection of our
sincerest efforts. We will be betrayed by someone we love. We will try to
struggle with the load of the day and fall down…again and again. We may be
stripped of our dignity. We will need to face our own dying. But through it all
we will be picked up and carried by the One who calls our name, over and
over…The sound of who we are is the wind beneath our wings. Nothing and no one
can separate us from the grasp of the risen One who calls us beloved.
You give me life and forget so much…
Thank you.
Keep eastering in me
day by day.
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