Angels in the daytime
are anything but routine.
Yet there they were
reciting the impossible
like old news:
He is risen.
My mind still stuck
on that stone, wondering
who rolled it away.
Were the disciples
stuck on that, too?
Or was it the missing body
or the eerie way
his clothes were left behind?
Sometimes we tend
to miss the point.
He. Is. Risen.
Now comes the work
of building his kingdom
of reflecting his light
through the transformed lives
his bloody sacrifice
made possible.
His end, a new beginning.
His death and resurrection
an arrow pointing us
in a new direction.
Lord, may we, like arrows
bend ourselves
to your touch.
May we fly straight and free
wherever you
would send us.
Luke 24:1–12, 1 Corinthians 15:19–26