Every once in a while a passage in the Bible grabs me.  Today, I almost bolted off the couch when I read Numbers 12.7.    It simply said this:

• I struggle with things I've struggled with for years, like my mood and the fact that I like things to be in order. Perfect order.  I wish I didn't struggle with these things, but I do.
• Some days it looks like creation is renewing itself, but the specific trend of human history doesn't look like its headed to better days.  We seem to keep creating new problems.
• The church still has enough hypocrisy and scandal on a big and little scale to keep the media engaged and non-Jesus followers away.

One of the verses that has haunted me for years comes from Ephesians.  Please read it and tell me if I am missing something, but it makes a claim so outrageous it still makes me gasp.

Paul says that the power that is at work in those of us who believe is the same power that raised Jesus from the dead.

Question: what kind of power would it take to make a dead person live?  Answer: a pretty big stinkin power.  Yep.  Pretty much the greatest power imaginable.

Now for the take-away.  That's the power that's in you and me who believe.

Which leads me to another question: why did I start this blog post with the observations/questions I used?  I mean if the power that raised Jesus from the dead is in me, then what the heck do I need to struggle with?

My conclusion would be – are you ready – that maybe I'm not tapping into that power nearly as much as I could be.  That we, collectively, as the church, are not leaning as heavily into God as we could be.

And Easter's almost here.  So I need to think about that, and pray about that, and lean into that, so hopefully I can write a different intro to a blog post a few months from now.

The same power that raised Jesus from the dead is at work in you, in me, in all who believe. 

How does that strike you?  How do you see that at work in your life?  In the church?

Unbelievably bleak – if you look at it from a human standpoint. We have some rather stark things planned to convey that message (ain't giving no secrets away).

But the bleak, starks be even depressing nature of Good Friday makes the story far more compelling. 

It makes hope real.

As I head toward Easter, I long to see the bleakness and hope of this holiday with fresh eyes. Rather than see a sanitary holiday with all the trimmings, I'd encourage you to explore the fierceness and raw story of the death and resurrection of Jesus as though you were reading it for the first time. 

The power of it might turn us upside down. The other thing it will do is show you and me that God speaks into the darkness of our lives with light far more powerfully than we might ever have suspected. In fact, he might be ready to breathe that hope into you right now.