I watch him work his way up the trunk. Black and white
markings on his back, bright red patch on his underbelly. The woodpecker has
left the little songbirds clinging to the birdfeeder while he slams his beak
into the rowan tree, hopeful to pull some hapless insect from just beneath the
bark and into his mouth.
What I see as beauty in nature is a source of deadly fear
and death to the woodpecker’s prey.
On a different scale, in a different way, I look at Jesus,
walking with assurance and love towards the cross. Different, but similar in presenting
a picture containing both beauty and horror. I watch Jesus in awe as I struggle
to keep up with him, his perfect love cancelling his human urges to be
affronted at the coming betrayals; his perfect love suppressing any cry of anger
or anguish in a voice pleading with the Father to forgive the ones hammering in
the nails. His perfect love investing all his hope in his perfect Father.
I struggle to emulate him, and fail yet again. Taking umbrage.
Investing in people rather than in God, who provides for all my needs and more.
Hugely grateful to Jesus for his love for me, I put all my
hope in him. Hope in God is the expectation that because of Jesus, something
good, something excellent, something perfect is coming.
Things may look dark, but Easter is coming.
Hallelujah.
No comments:
Post a Comment