I usually don’t get too emotional about YouTube videos. Yet, one of my students sent me a link yesterday to a video that he said, “gave me the chills.” For this particular student to preface his email this way piqued my curiosity, so I clicked on it and watched. And most certainly, it was very emotional for me.
The video is a presentation of “Life Ev’ry Voice and Sing,” what many refer to as “The Black National Anthem.” The Rev. Joseph Lowery quoted from the third verse of the song during his benediction at the Inauguration on January 20, 2009 when he prayed,
“God of our weary years, God of our silent tears, thou who has brought us thus far along the way, thou who has by thy might led us into the light, keep us forever in the path, we pray, lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met thee, lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget thee. Shadowed beneath thy hand may we forever stand — true to thee, O God, and true to our native land.”
As I watched the images, I couldn’t help but be propelled into a past that I only experienced on the surface (being born in 1964 living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin). I couldn’t help but to feel some pain knowing the injustices that were wrought on innocent people just because of the color of their skin. Yet, the video is full of images of power, in the midst of the injustices served, and in the midst of the hurt and pain I felt, I also felt proud for the progress we’ve made.
I think the video tells a powerful story. As my student shared it with me, I’d like to share it with you.
I remember when I first started blogging back in November 2006. It was fun. It was exciting. It was draining. It allowed me to uncover a writing voice I didn’t know existed. I have been grateful for the opportunities it has given me to get to know a few people out in the blogosphere that have given so much of themselves, people I’ve learned alot from.
Nonetheless, I experienced a block, and I neglected posting for a significant period of time. I thought about whether I had anything of any significance to say, and discovered that I really didn’t at the time. So instead of trying to post something of no value, I sort of disappeared. I sputtered a little here and there, attempting to make a comeback. But it just wasn’t there for me.
Part of me was dealing with the fact that I didn’t feel I had anything to say. But a large part of what I was doing was helping my husband get his book published. And while I posted back in December “It’s Here!” to celebrate his completion of the book, we experienced some production issues that took a minute to resolve.
Well, this time, it’s here!!! The book has been published and it has been released. Below is the new cover image:
Steppin’ Out Of The Darkness, “When Good People Become Great,” is an introspective, inspirational story about “personal leadership.” The premise is that it’s not what happens to you that matters most; it’s how you choose to respond after adversity strikes when life happens and after bad things begin to happen when least expected.
Moreover, Steppin’ Out Of The Darkness is a family friendly book containing lessons lived and learned by three generations of men.Not once did the author disclose the ethnicity of the characters in the story because he wanted each reader’s life experiences to color the faces of the characters.He did this to avoid forcing the characters to fit into a mold that may not apply to each person reading this literary legacy of faith, hope, and love. The book is 272 pages. It is only available through Generation Y™ Publishing, and you can purchase it through my husband’s blog, “When Least Expected.”
Well, I now have something to say. To celebrate, I have a new look for my blog (for those who were past readers here)! And what I’ve decided to do was write some reflections around Steppin’ Out Of The Darkness. To give you a little flavor before I get started in a couple of days:
“When life happens and the invisible fist of Adversity strikes, always expect the ‘Giver of Gifts’ to do the unexpected when least expected.“
To get a little flavor of the tasty nuggets my husband has cooked up in the past, take a look at his blog. Purchase the book. And let me know how you like (or don’t like) the new look of my site!!!
We live in a fast-paced society. We want things quickly. We want them now. We want to arrive at our destinations quickly. We want to lose weight quickly. I personally want those 15 pounds off RIGHT NOW!
Change can’t happen soon enough. We want to be more loving – now! We want to be more compassionate – now! We want to be more patient – now!
And what happens when it doesn’t happen – now? We are unkind to ourselves. We beat ourselves up. We say to ourselves, “This is just the way that I am. I can’t change.” And so we give up. We don’t give ourselves the space to just be. To allow God to do His work in us.
I read a poem the other day while I was walking down a hallway filled with high school kids. And after I read it, I could only say, “Wow” (one student actually thought I was talking about him – I had to quickly clarify). I think it expresses this idea that we must be patient with ourselves as we go through processes of change.
What makes a fire burn
is space between the logs,
a breathing space.
Too much of a good thing,
too many logs
packed in too tight
can douse the flames
almost as surely
as a pail of water would.
So building fires
to the spaces in between,
as much as to the wood.
When we are able to build
in the same way
we have learned
to pile on the logs,
then we can come to see how
it is fuel, and absence of the fuel
together, that make fire possible.
We only need to lay a log
lightly from time to time.
simply because the space is there,
in which the flame
that knows just how it wants to burn
can find its way.
He was told, “Go…” He was to leave the unfamiliar.
“In leaving the unfamiliar, you will be blessed beyond what you can imagine. Oh, and by the way, because of you, others will be blessed as well.”
So he dared to go. He left the comforts of his homeland. That homeland – where the deer and the antelope play. That homeland – where seldom is heard a discouraging word.
And in the process, this man trusted God…
Sometimes. A little bit.
Except when he put his wife on the block – at least twice – to protect his own interests.
Except when he tried to usurp God’s plan to fulfill the promise He made to the man to bless him.
Really, all he did was live life. Trying the best he could to provide for his family. Trying the best he could to raise his children. He had his favorites, though.
But in all his many imperfections, foibles, and missteps, God still blessed him. Even late in his life.
He demonstrated “great” faith – only once that I know of. Late in his life.
Yet, God didn’t demand perfection.
He just asked him to “Go.” And he went.
As I thought about the wonderful comments that so many of you took the time to share with me over the past few days, I sat here and thought to myself, “I really am in a good place.” I started out uncomfortable not knowing in which direction to go. But here’s what I take away from the story I heard above. I don’t really need to know in which direction to go always. The psalmist said,
“Our steps are made firm by the Lord,
when He delights in our way;
though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong,
for the Lord holds us by the hand.” (Psalm 37:23-24)
I believe that’s what God did for the man in the story. God directed this man where to go. So clearly, God delighted in the man way some kind of way. Even when he stumbled. Even when he made mistakes. Even though he wasn’t perfect. God held him by the hand and ultimately, this man arrived at his destination.
God spoke through your comments. And he said, “It’s okay. Be in that spot. I will show you the way, through your husband, your daughter, your friends, your students, the clouds, the rainbows, the rain… It’s okay. You can just be. For I am holding you with My own hand.”
Thank you for allowing God to bless me through you (you know who you are).
For those of you who’ve been reading my blog the past few days, you know that I’ve been struggling in a place that I don’t feel quite comfortable, a place I’m trying to make sense of. The wonderful readers of my blog gave me some wonderful encouragement and advice, and I’d like to share some of their wisdom, particularly for those who may be feeling as I am, not quite knowing which direction to turn, not quite knowing if the direction taken is the right one, not quite knowing if the road taken is the road one should travel.
Lisa Gates, author of the blog Design Your Writing Life compassionately commented on my post “Unsettledness,” and suggests I answer several questions. I’d like to begin by answering her first two questions as I seek to understand the direction in which I should go:
What could you learn by staying in the unsettled place for a while?
What is this unsettling trying to tell you?
I believe it will take a little courage to attempt to stay in this unsettled place as things unfold and clear up for me. I don’t say that arrogantly, as if, “KWiz, you’re so courageous!” It’s my nature to want things to have an explanation. But I’ve seen my husband live not having to explain everything or have everything make sense. In fact, that is what a life of faith is about – letting God have His way. And while, ultimately, He has had His way – which has resulted in so much tremendous goodness in my life – it’s not been easy to let go and let God orchestrate some things in my life. In fact, I’ll crack the door, peek out, and it is through those openings, I believe, God chooses to slip in and work. Why do I believe that? Jesus advised the people of a church that needed stern teaching and discipline in the book of Revelation:
“Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him…” (Revelation 3:20).
It’s been difficult for me to allow God to be God in my life. Yet, He’s been good, gracious, and generous. I need to trust that God will speak to me in my unsettled space, comfort me in that space, and lead me through and out when it is time.
So in response to Lisa’s question, “What is this unsettling trying to tell you?” I believe it’s trying to tell me to trust that no matter where I am, I am not alone (thank you, Camille). I am not alone in my…
For some Christians, “doubt” carries connotations of the “4-letter word.” Like questioning God is a sin. I’m perfectly okay with it, though. God’s not struck me down yet. Because I believe it is in the doubt where one asks questions. And it is in the questioning that one gains insight and understanding. To me, to say you can’t or shouldn’t ask questions of God implies a bit of arrogance, and really, I can’t pretend I know a dash about God to say I know enough not to question. But in the less than a dash that I do know, He’s merciful, compassionate, loving. And He knows the doubt I have in my mind and heart. He’s not requiring perfect faith of me – or anyone else for that matter. And for that anyone else who wonders about questioning God, it’s okay. He expects the questions. He wants the questions. Will I always receive the answer I want? HA! Will I receive the answers I need? Most definitely – yes. And going back to the fact that I am not alone, very often, the answers come from the community of which I belong. And at the moment, Lisa, Camille, Anna, The New Parent, Paula, Susan, and last but not least, Manchild, are some of you who are “with me” in my unsettledness. Thank you.
As I’ve had the opportunity to think about these questions, I believe the last question Lisa asks me is very key:
What if being unsettled is where the divine will meet up with you and show you the way?
I believe God waits for this. And I believe this to be true.
I believe God spoke to me through all of you. Thank you for being gracious vessels.
I hope those of you who are experiencing a similar state will find comfort in reflecting on Lisa’s questions.
I’m not quite comfortable with where I am right now. I’m about to be a stay-at-home mom for the summer. How in the world do women who do it full-time, all the time, actually do it? During the school year everyday, I drop my daughter off at daycare (which is on the campus of the school where I teach). I teach, discipline (right!), grade papers and tests, attend faculty and departmental meetings, and serve in other functions I’ve assigned myself at the school. Everyday. And when I (and sometimes my husband and I) pick up our daughter, I get to see the wonderful artwork she’s prepared at the hands of her wonderful teacher, get reports on how she never has a potty accident (she has been dry when she wakes up for the past couple of weeks!!!), and watch her run to me screaming because she’s excited to see me everyday when I pick her up after school.
She’s home for the summer. All day. Everyday. What do we do?
Now I not so clueless as not to know. Really. We have story time a couple times a day. I’ve actually decided to lose the 15-20 pounds this summer by taking her with me in the stroller on my walks each morning. But she won’t play with her toys by herself (she is an only child, and there aren’t children her age in the community in which we live, at least not that I’ve identified yet)!!!
So I’ve been researching what type of inexpensive activities are available for a three-year old to partake in. No. Activities I need for her to do outside of the house!!! I’ve got a plan. I may have found a place to take her a few times a week. That might just do it.
So I’m an unsettled mom.
I’m an unsettled teacher. Not particularly satisfied with my teaching this past year. I’ve determined I am going to work over the summer to revise my curricula, prepare in advance (didn’t have a chance to do that last year because I was taking care of my mother before she passed last summer), and be ready when the school year arrives in mid-August. Related to all this, I’ve got to prepare materials for my performance review this fall. Not a good year to do this, since I didn’t have the best of years. But it is giving me an opportunity to reflect a bunch.
I’m an unsettled teacher.
I’ve also decided that I’m going to put together a proposal to publish a supplement for a textbook I use in one of my courses. My first attempt at publishing! But even preparing the proposal seems to be a bit daunting.
I’m an unsettled would-be writer.
Let me not go on, because I’m unsettled in a variety of areas, and it’ll get a bit too personal.
I say all this to say that I’ve not been writing posts because, frankly, I’m unsettled. I’m especially unsettled because I feel my focus is a bit off. My area of specialty is Bible. I study scripture. I teach Old and New Testament. That’s what I do. Yet, I’ve not introduced it much on this blog. Why?
I’m trying to figure that out. I’m not a Bible-thumper. I don’t believe in beating people over the head with it. But I also know that God is real in my life. And I’m currently praying and seeking answers to the unsettledness I feel right now. It’s like I’m not where I’m supposed to be.
And as I read this, the unfocused nature of this post, I see my own unsettledness right before my eyes.
So excuse me as I try to figure it out. Posts will come. But I’m trying to figure out, in my heart, what they’re supposed to be about. What I’m supposed to share. What I am really supposed to communicate here.
Thanks for listening…reading, I should say. Comments are welcomed.
Back in the 80s and 90s when I worked in corporate America, I loved to wear beautiful suits. It was always my intent to purchase suits that I didn’t think I’d see on anyone else at any particular time (living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin). It’s not that I had goo-gobs of money to spend on one-of-a-kinds; I just prided myself on being a shopper of fine clothing of relatively reasonable value without breaking my wallet too much.
In the late 80s, I was participating in a training class for a large organization I worked for. When I arrived at the classroom, I took my seat, waiting for the class to begin. As I looked around, a woman walked in the door of the classroom wearing a beautiful black suit. I admired it for its intricate detailing and stitching throughout. I also noticed that the suit looked terrific on her, as it was a well-made suit. As she walked closer to where I was seated, I made an observation that absolutely made me sick that day – she’s wearing my suit, on the same day I had the same suit on myself!!! I was absolutely mortified!!! Really!!!
From that day on, I vowed I’d never wear that suit again. And I never did. In a sense, I felt violated. Of course, the woman wearing the suit didn’t do anything wrong. She merely had great taste, as I did. Yet, I felt as though I was being copied. I felt as though, as writers would say, I was being plagiarized! There was more than one of me! And if there was more than one of me, one of those “me’s” was not needed.
How ridiculous, you say? Yes, ridiculous it is. Until I can afford to purchase one-of-a-kinds (which I don’t even have a desire to do), there will always be a woman who is wearing those shoes I just purchased yesterday. There will always be a woman who is wearing that same blouse I bought last week. There will always be a woman who is wearing that same dress I bought last month. And I might even personally see that woman donning those shoes, that blouse, that dress. And get this…she might even look better in those pants than I do (which, at the moment, is entirely possible given the 15 pounds I need to drop).
Yet, I no longer have this feeling that I’m being copied, that I’m no longer unique when I see someone sporting “my” clothes. After a fire consumed all of my belongings while I was attending graduate school in the early 90s, I had to learn to shop differently to regain a small portion of what I’d lost and to try to rebuild (after not having renter’s insurance). And I wanted the same stuff I had before. Nevertheless, I couldn’t afford to pour out the same amount of money as I did before I entered graduate school. So I found discount shops and outlets (Loehmann’s, T.J. Maxx, Marshall’s, Filene’s Basement, and now, Value City), which means that I will someday see another woman in my clothes, on the exact day I’m donning the same outfit.
Does that mean that I’m no longer unique? Absolutely not!
The outer garments does not a sistah make!
It’s what’s inside that makes all of us unique. It’s what God has blessed us with that makes us one-of-a-kind. I am guaranteed that there is no one like me on this earth (that should be a relief for my husband), and that no matter what I wear, I have gifts and talents the world needs. I’m just trying to figure out what the world needs and how I can get it out there.
Ladies, has this ever happened to you? Have you ever felt like you’re a carbon copy and therefore, that you’re not needed?
Let me reassure you – it’s a lie! Don’t believe it!
What makes me unique?
I have three degrees that I can probably use virtually anywhere, if I put my mind to it.
I can tell funny stories of how I walked into a brick wall when I was in elementary school and broke my front tooth.
I’ve only had one cavity in my entire life, and I didn’t get it until I was 21 years old!
I look young for my age.
I’ve never gotten a job by sending out resumes.
I spent 12 weeks on hospital bedrest during my pregnancy and only gained 37 pounds.
I have the most wonderful daughter and most loving, caring, gifted husband in the whole wide world!
All of these experiences inform who I am. And no one, absolutely no one, has experienced what I’ve experienced collectively. Together, these experiences make me one unique woman. And no one can take that away.
I know the topic I’m about to broach is sensitive. For Christians, at least. And for others, it may be mildly amusing. Yet, it’s something that has bothered me for a few years now, and it really just sort of came to a head this evening (I started this post Thursday evening, May 10th) as I watched Tammy Faye Bakker Messner on “Entertainment Tonight” comment on the colon cancer she’s been battling now for several years.
For those of you who don’t know, Tammy Faye Bakker Messner, along with her then-husband Jim, were popular televangelists with a large media empire that, according to Reuters, “brought in close to an estimated $130 million annually at its height in the 1980s and reached 13 million homes daily.” Yet, as Reuters reports, “It all came crashing down amid sex and financial scandals that landed Jim in prison for five years. Tammy Faye divorced Jim and married his best friend.”
Sadly, Tammy Faye was diagnosed with colon cancer in 1996. In 2004, she disclosed that she was cancer free; however, the cancer returned the same year, this time in her lungs. “Entertainment Tonight” reported that she remarked, “‘The doctors have stopped trying to treat the cancer and so now it’s up to God and my faith,’ she writes [on her website]. ‘Please continue to pray for the pain and sick stomach.’” And yes, I pray that God will alleviate her pain so and sick stomach. I pray that she not suffer anymore.
What really upset me is that she blamed the fact that she has cancer on the devil. It’s the devil that’s making her sick, and she, as a Christian, is not going to let the devil win this battle.
Her statement is related to the popular doctrine (in some Christian “circles”) that asserts if you’re “faithful,” you are immune from sickness, disease, financial difficulties, and hardship. According to this belief, referred to as “The Prosperity Gospel” or “Name It And Claim It,” illness and other hardships are not of God. And if they’re not of God, they’re from the devil (or you’ve been in some way unfaithful to God, which opens the door to the devil to do his dirty work in your life). And because Christians (who espouse this doctrine) have “authority” over God’s creation and the devil, they can pray for whatever they want (according to Mark 11:23-24 and other taken-out-of-context scripture passages) and it will be given to them. And so what adherents of this “gospel” teach is that if you’re sick, pray and have enough faith and God will heal you. Take authority over the devil, because “[God has] given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you” (Luke 10:19). Therefore, if God doesn’t heal you, it’s because you don’t have enough faith.
Essentially, what preachers of this “gospel” have done is taken several scripture passages way out of context to develop a teaching that tickles the ears and makes people feel good.
The problem with this doctrine is that it is so very false! God, nor Jesus, never taught that Christians would never endure hardship. For example, the author of the book of Job discusses this issue at length – it’s referred to as theodicy, which asks the question, “why do the righteous suffer?” If you’re unfamiliar with the story, Job is a righteous man who walks in the ways of God. Ha-Satan (the Accuser) approaches God and asks the question, “Will Job serve God for nothing? Doesn’t he only serve You because You’ve blessed him?” God tells the Accuser that he can test Job to see if, indeed, Job will only serve God because God’s blessed him. The Accuser kills Job’s children, destroys his possessions, and afflicts him with boils from head to toe. In most of the remainder of the book, Job and his “friends” try to make sense of Job’s suffering.
In Job 38-41, as God finally addresses Job and his question of “why am I suffering when I’ve done nothing wrong?” we find that the question of theodicy is not answered. As Job has asserted his innocence throughout the book, he seeks answers about his adversity, complaining to God, “I cry to you and you do not answer me; I stand, and you merely look at me” (Job 30:20). Yet, God does not answer the question. No one knows why the righteous suffer.
And yet, they do. The Bible records many who have. Some preachers forget about these key figures. God made them promises, yet, they did not live to see the fulfillment of those promises. And these people had great faith. Check out what the author of Hebrews 11 says about these faithful people:
…By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as on dry land; but when the Egyptians tried to do so, they were drowned. By faith the walls of Jericho fell, after the people had marched around them for seven days. By faith the prostitute Rahab, because she welcomed the spies, was not killed with those who were disobedient.And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel and the prophets, who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies. Women received back their dead, raised to life again. Others were tortured and refused to be released, so that they might gain a better resurrection. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated-the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.
These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect. (Hebrews 11:29-40, emphasis mine)
And so, you ask, what is my issue? My mother passed away last summer from living with lung cancer for over six years. And I know for a fact that it was not the devil’s doing. Nor was it an issue that she wasn’t healed because she didn’t have enough faith.
“I have a dear friend who is critically ill. . .she will struggle with her sickness for the rest of her life and will continue to deteriorate physically. She has chosen to believe in the ‘prosperity gospel’ and decided that if she truly has faith she would choose to give up her walking cane (which she needed to walk) as well as refuse normal medical treatment (or even alternative treatments). Sadly, as a result of her decisions, she has caused her own deterioration to speed up…”
Please understand, I am not coming down on Tammy Faye Bakker Messner. What I am protesting is the fact that people who are seriously and gravely ill (and people who know people who are seriously and gravely ill) are espousing this doctrine as truth. What happens is that when they don’t receive their bodily healing, they and others conclude they didn’t have enough faith to take authority over the devil and the disease. This is erroneous. This is wrong. It is more than a travesty. It is heretical. And it puts God, Jesus, and Christians in a bad light.
This post is longer than I’ve wanted it to be, yet, it is so very important. I will conclude it tomorrow.
In the meantime, what do you think of the prosperity “gospel”? What do you think about people who believe that their faith will cure them of sickness and disease?
I’ve not wanted to write about the shooting at Virginia Tech on Monday simply because it’s all over the airwaves – online, print, television, cable. There’s not much I’ve wanted to say about it. Frankly, I can’t bear to watch the news coverage of this horrendous, callous incident.
As a teacher, though, my students wanted to talk about it today, especially my seniors, who are preparing to leave for college themselves in a few months or so.
A question one of my seniors presented was, “What about the gunman’s family? Where are they? What kind of family life did he have? Did he have brothers and sisters? Were they close?” As they asked those questions, I had to revisit what had been going through my mind since I heard about the massacre on the news Monday…
What about the mother of Cho Seung Hui?
I cannot imagine being the mother of any of the students who were killed. But I really cannot imagine being the mother of Cho Seung Hui, the killer. What kind of questions are going through her head? What is she feeling? I certainly cannot empathize at all. Yet, this young man’s mother is, in all likelihood, bearing the weight of the carnage he inflicted upon 32 people on her shoulders.
“Other than being the mother of one of the murdered students, I can imagine nothing worse than being the mother of the murderer, a murderer who committed suicide. How isolated she must be. She, too, is grieving, mourning the loss of her only son, mourning her dreams for him, and mourning her memories of his childhood. She has little – except confusion, guilt (however misplaced that may be) and questions.”
As a religious studies scholar, Dr. Bass uses the biblical text to attempt to explain Cho’s mother’s silence. She compares Cho’s mother’s silence with that of Eve after she and Adam are banned from the Garden of Eden after their act of disobedience.
Her post is insightful as she comes to the following conclusion:
“Silence may well be the primal response to sin: a mother’s choked pain, the pain of birthing sin, and the pain of birthing children victimized by sin. What can one say in the face of it all? Nothing, absolutely nothing. We are mute. But we are not entirely alone; we are embraced by the silence of Eve.”
I cannot, as a mother, wrap my head around the fact that Monday’s killings occurred. Yet, to understand that a woman – a mother silenced – is out there somewhere (probably trying to make some sense out of her son’s actions) compels me to reach out to her in prayer, to have compassion on her during this time of great distress, and to get it that her silence may be necessary for her at this moment.
Lent. Fast for 40 days. Abstain for something I enjoy for 40 days to prove what? That I can be like Jesus? I think not.
No, I’m not a skeptic. I believe in Jesus. He is my Savior. I believe He was crucified and died for my sins. I actually believe He rose three days after His death. Which is what Easter is supposed to celebrate.
So why the Easter bunnies and colored, decorated eggs?
I’m not against the bunnies and eggs, signs of fertility and new life. Indeed, Jesus’ resurrection symbolizes new life, and I can say I’ve experienced new life in some form in one way or another. So, in spite of the fact that we won’t be attending church on Easter to show off our non-existent new garb, Manchild, my daughter, and I will be celebrating the fact that Jesus rose from the dead and out of that tomb on that fateful Sunday upon which the Christian faith is based. If you didn’t know, the Christian movement would not have existed if not for Jesus’ resurrection. If He hadn’t risen, there would’ve been nothing to talk about the past 1,973 years (approximately).
So yes, my husband and I plan to, for the first time, dye eggs with our daughter and nestle them in her Easter basket along with the chocolate candy in which she will indulge. We will also, though, tell her of the story of the resurrected Christ and what He means to us. For me, it means resurrection in our own lives. How can I go about even seeing this possibility? As Einstein, a scientific genius, while believing in God, yet not a personal God, said,
“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.”
And the resurrection is mysterious, isn’t it? It can’t be explained through natural means, can it? And yet, Einstein said, as well,
“Imagination is more important than knowledge.”
And I certainly can imagine, when I read Luke 24, that I am one of the two (wo)men walking with Jesus to a village called Emmaus, not having a clue that I’m walking with the resurrected Christ. I can imagine I’m talking with Him, not really understanding the word He was trying to teach me along the way. I need no physical proof of His appearances after He arose out of that tomb. In fact, the fact that the tomb was empty is proof enough for me.
So I’m going to say so boldly that if I can believe as Einstein believes, then I’m a genius for believing what God did in the work of raising Jesus on that third day. And we will teach our daughter the same.
(I just stumbled upon the following article, “He is Risen: Evidence beyond Reasonable Doubt,” from Crosswalk.com. As a teacher of biblical studies, I found it compelling; I offer the article as a departure point for those who might want to engage the topic a bit further.)
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