Just been to see a friend whose wife died suddenly two weeks
ago, unexpectedly, too young. ‘It’s cruel,’ he said to me, describing the plans
they were making for their retirement which was to start within months.
Sometimes it feels as if the world is a wasteland of
cruelty. Hearts broken; lives disrupted; copious tears. Loss that can never be
replaced.
The daffodils are beginning to open all around the
northeast. Some of the trees are beginning to sprout. On my walks round the
woods nearby, I am attentive to a mossy, boggy wasteland, watching for the
annual flowering of wild primroses. Out of the apparent barrenness, beauty
blossoms.
The cross of calvary was a wasteland. Outside the city
gates, hung on a tree, the saviour of the world seemed to have come to a final,
humiliating end. But no, the dead body in the tomb was raised to life; the
promises of God were fulfilled; hope for us all was born.
My prayer today is for those stumbling through the
wastelands of the world, broken by sorrow and loss, that in those places of
sadness they will see beauty blossom. They will experience the comfort of the
King. That they will be assured of life everlasting, a life devoid of cruelty,
where love reigns and tears are no more.
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