Holy Week

 It's Holy Week. Even the words are typed in red, red like the blood of the Passover Lamb Jesus. How I long for every week to be truly Holy. When reading this email I know it must be shared. The link follows and a taste, just a smidgen of a taste to whet the appetite follows that.  Please click the link, or copy and paste it into your browser. Please read it all. Please don't just get a taste and miss a delicious meal. Holy Week, for He is Holy.


"And I pour out more of the dark maple syrup and I taste the sweet on my tongue.

And our God is not a God to merely believe, but to experience,
not to only believe in, but be held by. 

A God who not only breaks for you but breaks with you,
a God to not only have creeds about, but to have communion with,
a God who not only who dies for you, but who cries with you,
the God who touches you and binds you and blesses you and heals you
and re-members you because He let Himself be dismembered

and He is the God we not only believe in— but we know.
We know – know beyond a shadow of doubt, death or despair.

He has touched our tears. He has cupped our broken hearts with His scars. He has whispered to the howl, “I know, I know. And I’ve come to begin the making of all things new.” We believe. Because we know. He knows our grief. We know His goodness. And the truth is – we don’t need an explanation from God like we need an experience of God.

And that is exactly what we get.

We get that experience of God when He stretches open His arms on that Cross and cries,
“For you. For all your regrets and for all your impossibles,
for all that will never be and for all that once was,
for all that you can’t make right and for all that you got wrong,
for your Judas failures and your Peter denials and your Lazarus griefs

I offer to take the nails, the sharp edge of everything, and offer you myself because I want you, to take you,
you in your wild grief,
you in your anger and your disappointment and your wounds and your not-yet-there,
you, just as you are, not some improved version of you, but you – I came for you, to hold you, to carry you, to save you.”

The thanks, the yes — it could come like sweet relief.
The broken hearts — they could re-member.
The lament — it could be absorbed in love.

And I taste of holy week, taste of what of runs from that Tree, taste and experience grace and He is good.

All this Easter snow, this sugar snow, coming down like the purest redemption." Ann Voskamp from A Holy Experience

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