Category: Lent 2025

Easter Sunday, April 20

Full to the Brim with Awe and Wonder

“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen!” – Luke 24:5

The women – Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Joanna – approached the tomb that morning filled with grief yet determined to honor Jesus. They had likely spent the night preparing spices, pouring their love and devotion into every detail. But when they arrived, everything changed. The stone had been rolled away. The body was gone. And then, as if the moment weren’t overwhelming enough, two dazzling figures appeared before them. In fear, they fell to their knees – only to be met with the most astonishing news: Jesus was alive.

Their sorrow turned to awe and wonder, filling them to the brim. What they thought was the end of the story was only the beginning. The promise of resurrection wasn’t just an abstract hope – it was now a reality. Their encounter with the empty tomb revealed that God’s love is always at work – bringing life from death and hope from despair.

According to Brené Brown, awe and wonder are essential to the human experience. In her book Atlas of the Heart, she writes:

“Wonder fuels our passion for exploration and learning, for curiosity and adventure. Researchers have found that awe ‘leads people to cooperate, share resources, and sacrifice for others’ and causes them ‘to fully appreciate the value of others and see themselves more accurately, evoking humility.’ Some researchers even believe that ‘awe-inducing events may be one of the fastest and most powerful methods of personal change and growth.’”

That morning, the women’s awe transformed them into bearers of good news. Their joy and urgency stirred curiosity in Peter, who – despite his past denial of Jesus – ran to the tomb to see for himself. His curiosity led him to an empty grave, and as he stood among the burial clothes, he was filled with amazement.

Curiosity is an act of faith. Brené Brown reminds us that, “Choosing to be curious is choosing to be vulnerable because it requires us to surrender to uncertainty.” That’s what the women did when they went to the tomb, what Peter did when he ran to see, and what we are invited to do each Easter.

As we approach the empty tomb again this year, we come with our own sense of wonder, seeking the ways Christ may reveal himself anew. The resurrection is not simply a moment in history – it is a living truth that continues to shape our lives. We are invited to release our expectations, to lay down what we thought we knew, and to step forward into the mystery of new life.

In a vision, Christian mystic and anchorite, Julian of Norwich, who lived through the Black Plague, the Peasants’ Revolt, and much civil unrest, heard God assure her, saying, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, all manner of things shall be well.” No matter what burdens we carry, Easter assures us that, all shall be well – not because life is without struggle, but because resurrection is real. With Jesus on the loose in the world, new beginnings are always possible. This Easter, may you be filled to the brim with awe, wonder, curiosity, and joy, knowing that the story isn’t over. There is much more living to do. Christ is Risen!

Risen Christ, fill us to the brim with awe and wonder. Open our hearts to the mystery of resurrection and the new life you offer. May we, like the women at the tomb, be bold in sharing the good news. May we, like Peter, follow our curiosity into deeper faith. And may we, like all who believe, step forward into the abundant life you promise. Amen.

Rev. Lane Cotton Winn

Holy Saturday, April 19

Trust

In an ancient book
I have read of innocents
being thrown into a lion’s den.
I have learned it is so,
But I have trusted.

One whom I believe has said,
“Rain falls on the just
as well as the unjust.”
I have learned it is so,
But I have trusted.

Now this has happened.
Still, I trust.  Yes, still I trust.

For
It is in trusting
that I am alive to the utmost,
It is in loving
that I am most fulfilled,
It is in hoping
that I live to see a better day.

Rev. John Winn, For All Seasons (2011)

Wednesday, April 16

My Cup of Miseries Overflows

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” – Isaiah 43:18-20

Has your cup of miseries ever been full to the brim?

About twenty years ago my father was in poor health. My son was at war on foreign soil. My husband did not have a job. I was in a stressful job with very little pay. I was having some health problems of my own. My cup of miseries was more than full to the brim. It was overflowing. How were we going to make it? I prayed every day “Give us this day our daily bread.” We never went hungry. We just did not eat fancy things.

Our son told us that he would send his paycheck to us. He only needed enough money to get his hair cut every week. How thoughtful of our son to want to take care of us. We never had to take his paycheck.

My father did not recognize my brother, and my brother warned us that “Pop” might not know us. Pop called my name and my husband’s name as soon as we walked into the door. After we left he was moved into a nursing facility. As he got weaker some of my sister’s friends sang him into heaven. I was at Boy Scout camp when the call came. My phone would not work so my friend, Nancy, told me to have my sister call her. She found me and gave me the phone. It was a gorgeous blue sky with fluffy clouds. I thought, “What a beautiful day to go to heaven.” I finished my week at camp with only my friends, John and Nancy, knowing my father had died. I had to keep upbeat because of my boys.

Our son had made it clear not to contact him if anyone died while he was away. He had a dream and his friend Roger comforted him. He did not know what had happened, only that something had happened. Roger was able to calm him down, and they served overseas for eight more months and came home.

My husband got a job. He had to be away from home a lot, but he had a well paying job. I learned to rely on God to make my job less stressful. Wearing a hat reminded me that God was above me all the time and he is much greater than I. Every drop of misery in the cup filled to the brim and overflowing had one or more blessings attached that re-filled the cup to overflowing with blessings. If your cup of miseries is overflowing, do not fail to count on God and his Amazing Grace. There is more than enough to refill your cup with blessings.

Loving God, please help me to dwell on the good in my cup instead of the miseries. Let me count my blessings naming them one by one. Let me see the great things you have done. Amen

Daphne G Grady

Tuesday, April 15

Drinking from Dad’s Saucer

It was dinnertime on Tuesday, July 26, 2022. The phone rang; it was Aunt Cheryl, my dad’s sister, calling to share disturbing news. At 66, my dad died unexpectedly in his sleep. She was the one to find him, and with my mom out of town on business, Lane and I were her first call. Immediately, we were charged with the grief-laden process of calling family. Whether you have been the caller or receiver of one of these calls, you know the gut-punch it can be.

The next day Lane and I drove to my hometown outside Atlanta to be with family. The subsequent days were a flurry of grief-drenched processing, planning, and sorting end-of-life matters. As family does, we staggered our way through it all.

During one of those afternoons, my sister and I put ourselves to clear shelves of the kitchen pantry, a space which had become Dad’s packrat stockpile of life’s anticipated necessities. We excavated eccentricities of all assortments-several plastic peanut butter containers washed and now collecting odd nails and screws; his robust collection of breath mints and gum; handfuls of twist-ties held together with other twist-ties; more pairs of reading glasses than any one household should have; and the anniversary card Dad had already purchased and written to my mother for their upcoming 46th anniversary-one he did not live to celebrate. We came across some silly photos of my sister on his digital camera. As we dug and discovered within those shelves, floods of childhood memories, laughter, and tears co-mingled with the findings that represented our dad–devoted husband, construction contractor, gentleman farmer, humble Christ follower.

Then we came across his wallet-brown leather rounded and worn at the corners from decades of use. Tucked within, a strip of paper folded over and creased upon itself so as to fit within a card slot. It held a simple poem-one which conveyed a profound, grace-abundant theology he lived by. One he had committed to memory decades ago and recited to us on the occasional family vacation road trips.

Drinking From The Saucer
by John Paul Moore

I’ve never made a fortune,
And I’ll never make one now

But it really doesn’t matter
‘Cause I’m happy anyhow.

As I go along my journey
I’m reaping better than I’ve sowed

I’m drinking from the saucer
‘Cause my cup has overflowed.

I don’t have a lot of riches,
And sometimes the going’s tough

But with kin and friends to love me
I think I’m rich enough.

I thank God for the blessings
That His mercy has bestowed;

I’m drinking from the saucer
‘Cause my cup has overflowed.

He gives me strength and courage
When the way grows steep and rough

I’ll not ask for other blessings for
I’m already blessed enough.

May we never be too busy
To help bear another’s load;

Then we’ll all be drinking from the saucer
When our cups have overflowed.

Ben Hartman

Monday, April 14

Isn’t Life Wonderful?

God, my shepherd!
I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.
Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
makes me feel secure.
You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.
Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.
– Psalm 23 from THE MESSAGE

It was 1996. My husband Jim and I were visiting my sister in my hometown, Oneonta, Alabama. We were sitting around the breakfast table enjoying a second cup of coffee and family conversation. JoAnn looked at me, then at Jim, then turned back to me and said, “You need to take him to a neurologist. He has Parkinson’s.” She is an RN.

That was the beginning of a twenty-seven year battle with an evil, wicked disease. For several years the only symptom was a tremor in his right hand controlled with medication. In 2013 I was sure Parkinson’s dementia had come on the scene with a vengeance. Although Jim had been under the care of a neurologist, we thought it was time for a new set of eyes – a movement disorder specialist. We were off to Atlanta to Emory Neurology Clinic. With a medication change, Jim’s mind came back. Still as time passed, other symptoms appeared: balance issues, difficulty swallowing pills, struggles with eating utensils, occasional episodes of delusional thinking, more frequent falls, transitioning to a hospital bed.

Jim was a Vietnam veteran so we were able to get some in-home help – 12 hours a week to begin with in September 2022. By March 2023 he was spending 20 hours a day in bed, 16 asleep. In late May we entered a hospice program. We had VA help 40 hours a week. He could no longer support his own weight (90 pounds) as we moved him from bed to chair. He had to be fed. Soon his body was drawn into a fetal position. Yet, when he could get his mouth muscles to work to speak, his thoughts were clear.

One evening I was on the phone with our younger son in Atlanta. I asked him to pass the phone to our then 11-year-old grandson. I asked Nathaniel to take the phone in the living room to the piano and play something for Pop. At 11 it was clear he had a gift. I put the phone on speaker and laid it on Jim’s pillow. When the mini-concert was over, Jim looked up at me and smiled and said,

“Isn’t life wonderful?”

Jim won his battle over Parkinson’s September 6, 2023.

God of love, mercy and grace, I pray whatever stumbling stones may litter my path that I have the faith to count my blessings and walk in the knowledge that I am not alone. Amen.

Carol Jean Barrow

Saturday, April 12

Martha

Bethany, the home of Martha and her sister Mary.

“Lazarus refuses to take the threats of danger seriously.” Mary was beside herself with worry. He says ‘I know what death is. How can I fear what Pharisees can do?’”

“We’ll just have to persuade him to go,” Martha answered. “He will be safe in Antioch with our friends and it won’t be forever.”

It wasn’t easy, but the sisters finally got their brother to agree to the trip. Martha’s next chore was more challenging.

“Mary,” she said, “you must go with him. He is still weak from his illness and will need nursing. You yourself are fragile and need to be far away from angry mobs.”

“But you are in danger as much as we are,” Mary pointed out.

“I’ve spoken with our friend Nicodemus,” she answered. “He is sending his bodyguard Samson to keep me safe. I plan to spend the eight days of unleavened bread with Jesus and his disciples.”

Mary was convinced to go after many protests and tears. With great relief, Martha saw her sister and Lazarus packed in the wagon with all the necessary luggage, medications and gifts for their host. Then she packed for herself and prepared to leave for Jerusalem with Samson.

When they arrived in the city, she and Samson met with Jesus’ disciple Andrew at a prearranged location. Samson returned to Nicodemus, leaving Andrew and Martha to walk a confusing pattern of side streets and alleyways. Finally they arrived at a large, plain building which contained a spacious upper room. There they met a crowd of Jesus’ disciples and the faithful women who traveled with them in support.

Martha did not see the events of the week before the Passover feast. She remained in the upper room to make preparations for the supper all would share. She explained to the other women that she had brought flour and oil and would bake the unleavened bread needed for the meal. The others knew her skills and were glad to give her this privilege.

Tensions were high in the upper room throughout the week. The unrest in the city, the imposing Roman presence, the well-known plottings of the Temple authorities increased the worries of the disciples. Only Jesus remained calm.

At last it was time for the feast of unleavened bread. With the paschal lamb were many items provided by well-wishers: wine from Cana, bitter herbs the gift of Nicodemus, a sweet made of dried fruit and nuts from Capernaum, spicy radishes served in salty tears, roasted eggs pointing to the future and Martha’s special bread.

Martha listened closely to the prayers, the table conversations and the last instructions of Jesus. She saw him break the loaf and offer the bread of life. She saw him pour the wine and pass the cup. She listened as the disciples sang a final hymn and watched as they joined Jesus and went out to walk across the city to the Mount of Olives to pray. At last, the remains of the feast were put away and the room put in order.

Then Martha sat down to wait for Jesus’ return.

Guy Johnson

Friday, April 11

Prodigal Grace

Then all the tax collectors and the sinners drew near to Him to hear Him. And the Pharisees and scribes complained, saying, “This Man receives sinners and eats with them.” – Luke 15:1-2

Pray to God
Receive all His children
Offer love to everyone
Decide to forgive wrongs
Inspire others to do the same
Grace should be given daily
Ask for salvation for all people
Love God and people

God loves everyone. I know that’s a hard pill to swallow but He does. He loves the murderer. He loves the adulterer. He loves the thief. He loves the racist. He loves the liar. He loves the scammer. He loves you and He loves me. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done if you turn to God with a repentant heart He will receive you. Why, because God’s grace is prodigal. The next time you feel the need to put someone in an unforgivable category remember that God loves that person just as much as He loves you.

Let’s remember to show grace to everyone, even those who have done unforgivable acts because God loves them and doesn’t want any of his children to perish. So my brothers and sisters let’s make a commitment to pray for all people; especially those who are deemed unworthy. That is God’s prodigal grace in action.

Heavenly Father, When we are tempted to hate, remind us of your love and help us extend your love, forgiveness and grace to one another. In Jesus name amen

L. Darlene Dickson

Thursday, April 10

Drawn Like a Magnet

O God, you are my God. Earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water. – Psalm 63:1

It’s the craziest thing. My cat Meli loves music. While her sibling Juba ‘leaves the building’ at the first hint of a musical tone, Meli sits calmly by and listens intently. She lounges lazily beside me on the piano bench when I’m practicing a piece or lies contentedly at my feet when I play the violin. But it’s the concertina (small English squeezebox) that draws her so strongly. If I sit at the kitchen table with my music in front of me, Meli jumps onto the table and plaintively utters several almost silent meows. She moves into my lap and ‘kisses’ the concertina and eventually climbs between me and the instrument, making it impossible to continue playing. There’s something seductive and irresistible in the tone of the concertina that draws her like a magnet. She is inconsolable if I remove it from her presence.

In a way, I am like Meli. I am drawn to the sacred word of God in scripture. The beauty and mystery of the words sing to me like a Siren’s song, call me to pray, inspire me to create, bring me to tears.

I have always had a love affair with words. Language delights me. Etymology fascinates me. Words call to me. I have become a writer of sorts in recent years and love to weave words into meaningful thought or compelling poetry. And now, wonder of wonders, I find that God beckons me through my love of words. Like a magnetic force, the Psalms pull at me through their images of comfort, peace and worship. In the silence of early morning, I feel the presence of the Holy Spirit in the beauty of the poetry of Isaiah and Jeremiah. In this season of Lent, I sense the profound sadness in the tender words Jesus speaks at the last supper.

The word of God inspires, uplifts, challenges, soothes. It fills me with longing and makes me thirst for more. What a wonderful gift we have received from our amazing creator!

Gracious God who summons, thank you for using our yearnings to draw us closer to you. Help us be attentive to the passions you have planted in us. We pray that you use them in some way to further your kingdom. Amen.

Betty Schroeder

Wednesday, April 9

Hiking Through the Void of Lent

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; they rod and thy staff they comfort me. – Psalm 23:4

Images of hiking have always intrigued me. I have had the privilege of hiking most of the Appalachian Trail. I have hiked two of the many approaches to The Santiago de Compostela, also known as El Camino de Santiago or Way of St James, in Spain. Likewise, there have been hikes in Germany, Ireland, Scotland, New Mexico, Colorado, Louisiana…really, I’ve lost track, so to speak.  And the intrigue also comes in other ways. I will never forget John Denver’s The Mountain Song or Fogelberg’s riveting hiking and ecology anthem The Wild Places:

“Can we gaze with the wonder of children
into the deafening night.
Has it gotten so dark
That we cannot remember the light?”

Thus, when Dr. E. Brooks Holifield stepped into the pulpit to bring the word in Cannon Chapel on my first day of seminary at Candler School of Theology and invited us to “put on your backpacks and step into the void,” I was hooked! The invitation came with a warning.  He spoke with a prophetic voice. He said that in the coming years we might often ask ourselves “Why in the hell am I here?”

He clarified the invitation that we would be bringing with us stuffed in our backpacks all that we knew and had experienced about God. Our hiking trail would be in to a void, often in deep darkness, no height or depth, no direction of right or left, forward or backward.  But he said all along the way there would be points of light where we might find something of interest to pick up and examine, to hold, to recognize its texture, its weight, etc. We would be free to pick it up if we found it important, place it in our backpacks and continue the journey.

He cautioned us that in time we might find our backpacks had become heavy and that it would be important to stop at that time and examine more closely what we had gathered and what we had brought with us. Was the new thing attractive enough to keep?  Was the old thing still viable in your belief system. What is it that we know and believe about Jesus? And occasionally, has what we discovered earlier or been taught to be not so necessarily true for us anymore?

At those stops we were given permission to lay down what no longer worked for us; to pick up and take with us what was giving us new enlightenment and the power to believe more fully.  We were informed that what we left behind might not always be lost forever.  What we already have and believe brings us to the crossroads of what we are and teaches us to discover and seek after what is new as the void of faith presents. And sometimes we pick something back up to carry with us again.

The season of Lent provides us with such a hike through the darkness of the void of self-examination and new-found discovery. But we must open ourselves to what is new and become comfortable with what may change our course in faith. Some thoughts and beliefs will be with you forever. Some thoughts and beliefs must be set aside if your faith is to grow and our personal relationships with God and Jesus and the Spirit are to continue to blossom.

Take this time of lent to lend yourself to study and meditation.  Literally take a walk but do so with your soul in hand. What you need is already with you or on the trail but sometimes it will be bumpy and upsetting.  Sometimes you must walk with something for a bit to understand its importance to your faith growth.  But the journey of faith will always be joyful in the end.

The void of Lent invites your footsteps. It’s like a bad Friday sometimes but Sunday’s coming!

Rev. Larry Norman

Tuesday, April 8

Free Refills

The Lord restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness. For His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the Lord. Forever. – Psalm 23:3-6

According to Psalm 23:5-6, if you are only daring enough to let Him, God is constantly filling our spiritual cup with His Peace. However, sometimes it feels as though the challenges we face prevent us from feeling full and at peace. What I’m realizing, though, is that if you really surrender your life to Jesus,  things fall into place – there is a sense of peace found in letting go. Letting go of control is an apparent challenge for most. I mean, who wants to just go with the flow and accept, beforehand, whatever comes next? Not me – and not most people I know. The human desire for control reminds me of  the difficulties in my life that, fortunately, I’m growing from spiritually.

When I turned 13, I really struggled to control my life and my future. I became terribly anxious all the time. My need for a sense of control eventually became out of control. The next eight months were miserable as I struggled with anxiety over my parents, my school work, and even my music!

A year later, I have begun to flourish again, because God is refilling my cup through my wonderful friends, my family, and the ability to think and move around! I am full enough to see how awesome life is. I had forgotten for a while. It’s been no bed of roses, of course; I still have plenty of bad days, but now I am full spiritually, and I am well. I feel so thankful for my church family, my friends, and my parents. But, I also have to hand it to God for the free refills.

Evelyn Durham