On the way to the vernal pond, I notice how we can’t even approach it unless we pass through the thorns. There’s no way around them.
These thorns tangle and form a crown above us.
This Easter, I think of the passage Christ paves through that crown of thorns he wore at the crucifixion. And today, that beautiful resurrection means I enter in, and I’m free.
A paradise awaits, but I have to pass through the thorns.
Journal: He is risen indeed! Have I walked through that free passage, marked by the crown of thorns?
Our story within His story – our own journey of dyings & resurrections…
We all want a path of flowers don't we?
it doesn't take long to figure out, “it isn't so.”
So why do we flair so much with the reality?