The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!
Can you imagine, can any of us imagine what it must have been like to see Him risen from the dead? After that horror-filled experience of witnessing his brutal death?
And can you imagine what our lives would be like had his death been the end of the story. I don't even want to imagine. And we don't need to. He is risen indeed.
I would like to share a song that is new to me and really touched me this Easter. (It fits well with my earlier post on the green after the storm.) It's a lovely blending of the natural and the supernatural.
Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;
love lives again, that with the dead has been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
In the grave they laid him, Love whom hate had slain,
thinking that never he would wake again;
laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
Forth he came at Easter, like the risen grain,
he that for three days in the grave had lain,
quick from the dead my risen Lord is seen:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
thy touch can call us back to life again,
fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
I would like to share a song that is new to me and really touched me this Easter. (It fits well with my earlier post on the green after the storm.) It's a lovely blending of the natural and the supernatural.
Now the green blade riseth from the buried grain,
wheat that in dark earth many days has lain;
love lives again, that with the dead has been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
In the grave they laid him, Love whom hate had slain,
thinking that never he would wake again;
laid in the earth like grain that sleeps unseen:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
Forth he came at Easter, like the risen grain,
he that for three days in the grave had lain,
quick from the dead my risen Lord is seen:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
When our hearts are wintry, grieving, or in pain,
thy touch can call us back to life again,
fields of our hearts that dead and bare have been:
Love is come again like wheat that springeth green.
Happy Easter!
(Words by John Macleod Campbell Crum [1872-1958.] I heard it sung to Noel nouvelet, a medieval French carol.)
(Words by John Macleod Campbell Crum [1872-1958.] I heard it sung to Noel nouvelet, a medieval French carol.)
3 comments:
Beautiful picture. Is it of Croatia?
Yes, it is. It's in an area called Zagorje, between Cakovec and Zagreb, the two cities where we have lived. I think my better half took this picture when he was there two years ago.
And if your computer will allow you to click and enlarge it, it's nearly overwhelming in its green!
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