How King Jesus deposed an imposter called death

In a garden, in the shadows,
back when death usurped life’s throne
the kingdom God intended went awry.
Yes, death ruled with ruthless terror
breaking hearts and robbing hope
with an edict that his subjects had to die.

But in another garden
long ago and far away,
the King unseated death and claimed His crown.
Yes, He banished the imposter
 ‘tho it cost the King His life
and a three-day weekend buried underground.

And on this Easter Sunday
as the lilies lift their heads
to announce the King of Life reigns once again,
can’t you hear the tulips’ fanfare
in earth’s gardens near and far
as they trumpet out a resurrection hymn?

Hallelujah, Christ is risen!
Hallelujah, Jesus reigns
for the kingdom of our God and of His Christ
is impervious to traitors
who deny what’s been achieved
by the King of Life who paid redemption’s price.

What the eyes of faith reveal

The crowds lined the cobblestone streets that day
as a solitary figure emerged on a beast of burden.
There were exuberant cheers!

Smiling spectators waved palm branches in his direction
and shouted “Hosanna!”

Children sang a simple synagogue song.
“Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”

In front of where they stood
parents paved the path with their colorful outer garments
A growing red carpet could be seen 
as the grand parade marshal approached.
What a day it must have been!

Within my mind’s eye
I see the guest of honor seated on his burro.
He is smiling.
I catch his glance.
He looks my way and his loving eyes speak.

“You matter to me!
That’s why I am here.
This parade appears to be for me,
but it actually is for you.
Although you’d never guess by what is taking place now,
this procession punctuated by praise
will culminate in a post-parade party at which time
my critics will call for my death.
However, the painful conclusion to this joyful scene
will make possible the meaningful life I pictured for you
even before you were born.
I am dying to show you how much I care.”

His eloquent eyes speak volumes.
But if that were not enough,
I see his muscular arm
reach through a sea of faces in my direction.
His calloused hand betrays his years as a carpenter.
He opens his palm and gently touches my suntanned cheek.
It is at once warm and cool.
I am overcome with an inexplicable feeling of acceptance.
A tear falls from my eye and trickles to his hand.
His hand remains unmoved.
He smiles.
I smile back bashfully, gratefully.

My trembling hand reaches up to cup his hand
cradled against my face.
My palm against his palm.
I feel my heartbeat pulsating in my hand.
It is a holy moment.

Two hands touching.
A sacred bond of sorts.
No words are shared.
There is no need.
I know beyond any doubt
that I am loved by Jesus. 

“Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!”
“Hosanna, indeed!”

The Skagit Valley offers hope to the heartbroken of Oso

They’re, oh, so sad but, Oso strong
as people sing their funeral songs
in churches where they voice their faith
amid the loss they bear.

Not far from where they grieve the dead,
a host of tulips raise their heads
and trumpet hope amid despair.
Their fanfare calms our fear.

The Easter tune the tulips play
suggests a myst’ry underway.
Within the colored fields we see
a miracle displayed.

Those buried bulbs beneath the ground
(much like the bodies not yet found)
cannot be written off as gone.
In time they’ll rise again.

* Not far from the devastated area where many lost their lives and homes in the mudslide, the world-renown Skagit Valley boasts some of the most beautiful tulip fields in the world.

The search for a missing airliner and those far from God

A plane-load of people en route to Beijing
has conjured up memories of “Lost.”
And the world has been searching
with focused intent without any thought of the cost.

These unified nations are looking as one
to find those who’ve vanished from view.
The search has been endless for loved ones deemed lost.
It’s a feverish hunt for some clue.

Much the same we’ve been called to go look for the lost,
little lambs who have fled from God’s fold.
His shepherd-heart longs for the lost to be found.
It’s a message that’s older than old.

And we are the ones He’s enlisted to search
for the sheep who wandered away.
We’re the Good Shepherd’s posse that cannot give up
as we follow each lead while we pray.

If only we Christians would be unified
like the nations that look for that plane.
The fruit of our efforts would greatly increase
if in oneness we shared that one aim.