I was working in the flower garden this morning, gathering up the dead leaves and twigs, filling my bucket with the detritus of winter. I have a place where year after year I dump the current crop of old vegetation onto the decaying pile of past years.
As I walked, I looked down and saw two little eggs cradled under the cedar trees. I stooped to pick them up, and they were so fragile I could feel them begin to crumble under the gentle pressure of my fingers. I held them lightly in the palm of my hand and on this day before Resurrection Sunday thought of new life - the precious miracle of new life.
The egg shells are a picture of our earthly bodies, fragile and sometimes broken. One day they will fall to the ground and new life will begin - life that never ends. Jesus suffered the unimaginable so that we could have this precious gift. He died so that we might live with Him forever.
He stands with open arms, offering the gift to any who will receive it. It is only a whisper away.
Wishing you the joy and peace and hope that Easter brings,
Linda
