Sky still dark, though soft;
5am, orange hue. Windows wide.
Birds communicating, loudly.
The temperature says, “spring.”
The forecast is showers, much,
To local farmers’ delight. Soil,
more than ready with thirst.
Friday was celebratory, solemn;
Difficult, so tearfully necessary.
We acknowledge it as “good.”
Saturday was calm, restful;
death-shattering might so bright,
As Sunday came & went—“Easter.”
Bells rang, broadcasts streamed.
Enter Monday, and the rains.
Online school and work from home.
Broken homes, and lives; the clock ticks. Reality news—reminders of all the pains.
Was Friday real? It was.
Was Sunday true? It was.
Is Messiah Jesus risen? He is.
So what of Monday?
What of this Jesus?
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.
For everything was created by him,
in heaven and on earth,
the visible and the invisible,
whether thrones or dominions
or rulers or authorities—
all things have been created through him and for him.
He is before all things,
and by him all things hold together.
He is also the head of the body, the church;
he is the beginning,
the firstborn from the dead,
so that he might come to have
first place in everything.
For God was pleased to have
all his fullness dwell in him,
and through him to reconcile
everything to himself,
whether things on earth or things in heaven,
by making peace
through his blood, shed on the cross.
Once you were alienated and hostile in your minds expressed in your evil actions. But now he has reconciled you by his physical body through his death, to present you holy, faultless, and blameless before him— if indeed you remain grounded and steadfast in the faith and are not shifted away from the hope of the gospel that you heard. This gospel has been proclaimed in all creation under heaven, and I, Paul, have become a servant of it.
He is plenty, through to Monday.