There might be an area of your life that appears to be dead right now. Perhaps a friendship has dissolved. Perhaps a marriage is strained. Perhaps a prognosis is grim, a dream is unreached, or a longing is unfulfilled. This situation -- whatever it is, whether it's large or small -- tugs at you. It whispers that it will get the best of you, that it will win.
But today is a day when we celebrate resurrection.
During a powerful message that I heard a few weeks' ago, my church's youth pastor noted that even during painful or challenging circumstances, we can insert the gospel into the equation and rest.
The premise, of course, is that the gospel is power. The gospel changes matters. The gospel, this Good News of Jesus' all-sufficiency, does stuff. It heals the lame, cleanses the leper, provides for the widow, comforts the afflicted, creates a way when there is no way, protects us when we're surrounded, brings dead things back to life, and redeems.
The gospel isn't trite comfort. It's not a band aid being offered for a puncture wound, or a wad of chewing gum to plug a gaping hole when our ship is sinking. No, the gospel is infinite and powerful, holy and unrelenting, effective and essential. We can insert this gospel into our circumstances and rest.
I took this picture of the sunset last night from my front porch. We have a God who paints the sky, who causes every new day to dawn. This God, he knows us.
And when we're known by God, we can be real with God. He already knows where we stand. He knows whether we're running on empty, coasting in neutral, teeming with anger, discouraged by failure, or full of faith. Regardless of how we feel, we can ask God to enter our equations. Insert the gospel. Rest.
On this day especially, we remember that God still is in the resurrection business. We can dare to wait with expectation.