Death is Defeated!

Adhesive tape from the 1960s did what it said. It adhered forever. No wonder it was agony to remove the dressing applied by the school nurse onto a scraped knee: a piece of gauze held in place by that powerful white adhesive tape.

Another aspect of adhesive tape was that you could write on it. And so, half a century later, the adhesive wrapped round the housing for the end pin on my cello, still says my name and address and telephone number as it was when I was a child. I haven’t removed it. I am still that person, still that child. And this is still my cello, an aspect of my identity in some weird and wonderful way.

God has wrapped us in his identity. He has written his name on us, and nothing can remove that identifying mark. He embraces us in his love. From before he created us in our mothers’ wombs, he knew us. He counts the hairs on our heads. He died for us.

I can’t visit my grandchildren in this wretched lock-down, but I am kept going by precious videos and pictures sent regularly by their considerate parents. Every one is viewed more than once, for sure. I just viewed, through tears, a short video of our eldest grandchild singing as she coloured in, ‘I’m gonna sing, in the middle of the storm. Louder and louder, you’re gonna hear my praises roar. Up from the ashes, hope will arise. Death is defeated: the King is alive.’ She is five years old.

God has wrapped each of our grandchildren in his loving arms and put his mark on them. What a comfort in these turbulent times. We can’t visit any of them, but we remain connected in a powerful bond of love.

Death is defeated. The King is alive!