Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Colored Eggs And Baskets Of Candy...

The walk to our mailbox, back and forth from our front door is just under one-half mile. At the beginning of my short sojourn when I walked out the front door pairs of blue birds and cardinals were flitting around the yard. Along my walk, I looked for deer tracks in the loose gravel and patches of sand that make up our winding driveway. No disappointment. Heart-shaped hoof-prints crossed the twisting drive that leads to Holland Road.

Each day, the grass grows greener and taller, and the days grow longer and warmer. Skin warming temperatures always bring to mind my friends and family that live in the northeast. People I love await green grass and a landscape to appear absent of dirty mounds and furrows of snow and slushy roads. In April, my mom and sister will arrive at The Shire for a week of relief from the stubborn grasp of winter, and the hesitant arrival of spring that has been shy to appear in the great State of Maine. Mom can't wait to attend Hamilton Baptist Church and hear her eldest son preach the Word of God and to see the place Sandy and I live that I have written so much about. We can't wait for my Mom and sister, Barb, to arrive and get a taste of southern hospitality and a respite from the harsh winter that has surrounded them since late October of 2014.

All of us, regardless of your religious leanings, are influenced by Easter. Which, to Christ-followers, supersedes Christmas as the highest and holiest season of Christian worship. Yet, for our post-Christian culture, it is little more than a holiday of seeking out colored eggs and baskets of candy. As a Christ-follower, I look forward to speaking to the spiritual impact, and rationally defended privilege of preaching of the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ. 

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