My Father’s House Blog

Easter was upon us last weekend, coming seemingly out of nowhere…earlier in the year than usual. Its message of redemption and resurrection was a welcome interruption. In pondering its significance, I was struck by how deeply these rhythms of birth, death and rebirth play out in the experience of life.

These last few weeks, it seems rebirth has been happening all around us. I’ve noticed once barren trees sprouting life, grass is starting to grow, and daffodils are exploding out of the ground in every yard. Even the sun is re-emerging after months of wet Oregon grayness, announcing the coming of spring longer and longer each passing day.

Here at the shelter, our families have seen their own rebirth, finding jobs and housing and preparing to move on…all within a two week period, eerily in rhythm with the changing season. For them, having walked in the darkness of despair and hopelessness for months, this new season is a rebirth…from homeless to home, from despair to hopefulness, from lost to found.

Death, through barren winter, through despair and loss, through the Cross of Christ, is not the end of the story. The first rays of spring sun shine through the clouds, on an empty tomb, on landscapes and lives awakening to new hope: the warmth of life resurrected and renewed. This is grace.

Sam

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