Why does the Easter sermon sound exactly the same every year ... why can't he mix it up a little ... what's for lunch ... I hear this.  These words bounce around inside the car on the short drive home from church, but I am thinking about something entirely else ... just like I was thinking of something entirely else during church.  I'm not always present.  Sometimes I am somewhere else entirely.

Today I was trying to be thankful for the many blessing that would be easy to take for granted ... truth is it might be easy to twinge the edges of those gifts with impatience ... these "blessings" which shape me sometimes just flat out wear on my "last nerve".  I was thinking about that ... and about those telomeres ... tiny little molecular crosses ... where human intellect makes its leaps just as spirituality may make a leap of faith near a cross.  I heard Preacher say that ten of the disciples of Christ suffered horribly as martyrs to the hope offered by that cross and the resurrected Savior whose words I strain to hear.  Preacher said, and I've never thought about this before, "Why ... How ... could ten different men offer themselves up to this suffering if they were not certain that they had seen a resurrected Savior."  Yeah.

And now we are driving home and my mind goes to Paula Deen's scalloped potatoes which are hopefully bubbling in my oven, and the pot full of eggs boiled early this morning while cinnamon rolls baked, but waiting to be peeled and turned in to deviled eggs.  Lunch will be a snap today, it's what comes after that holds my thoughts.  Yesterday, L and I were out walking and a helicopter flew over, and my daughter, Four, called.  I could hear her voice so small as my husband soothed her.  She was out for a day in the life ... hiking, swimming first in the river, and later at the home of a friend ... then everyone decided it was time to ride bikes ... 'cept one of the bikes was flat and two of her group ended up on long boards instead.  She told her dad that she sat down on her board and rode the hill down, but her friend zoomed by standing up ... in complete control, until suddenly he wasn't.  She wished the pump in her car had a bicycle fitting but ... it was there for her basketball.  Her friend was hurt ... badly ... and she held his head while he suffered (she told me later that it was such a shock to be so helpless and see him so helpless also ... she has never seen that before) and tossed her phone to another with instructions to call 911 ... and your doctor dad next who was near by ... and hurt friend's parents ... and the ambulance came ... and a helicopter flew him unconscious to the nearest neurologist ... and a mother and daddy made the long drive to their son wondering what they might find on arrival.

We drove our daughter over to visit today.  He is still unconscious, but improving.

It is hard.  Raising kids is so hard.  Is that how God feels about us?  He sends us out to do our lives hoping for the best ... hoping good choices will be made ... hoping for our sake?  I think this whole human experience is about choices ... if we didn't choose God how could there be relationship ... real relationship?

On the drive over I asked her, "Is there anything you do that you love, but against which you must weigh potential costs?"  "What do you mean?" she asked, and I said,  "Like diving ... when you were diving did you ever need to feel your body twisting and flipping and piercing the water ... or any of the things you do that might not go well ... ".  She was silent.  "When I fly ... because I fly ... I know there are potential costs involved, and I am careful to manage those.  I have wondered if I lost my life there would the cost be worth whatever it is that drives the need to live sometimes in the air ... and I have thought yes, because it is part of being alive for me.  When I watch those Olympic athletes expressing their lives with the wonderful things they can do with their bodies I always think God must delight with them in the choices they have made as they explore the limits of His design.  I'm thinking about any of those places where human's may excel ... with their their bodies or minds or souls. I think there is an expression which our choices make where we are the best we can be at that very moment ... and I think God smiles when he sees us doing that ... stretching towards fully engaged, fully alive."

Christina Perri ... For a Thousand Years

"Heart beats fast ... colors and promises ... how to be brave ... how can I love when I'm afraid to fall ... "

That's really what I'm thinking of.  I want her ... and all of them ... all of us ... to live out whatever, where ever the colors and promises are ... where our hearts beat fast ... I want us to be brave as we live out who we are ... who we are meant to be ... who God was thinking of when he thought of us.  Today ... the sermon was the retelling of a love story.  The love story.  I think those places where we feel most alive inform us.  I think those may be the very places where we are most likely to experience God.

I have struggled with the idea of Christ as sacrifice.  It hurts to realize the cost ... the helpless feeling of his suffering ... and ... why was the penalty need so dear ... a life.  His life for mine ... and yours ... and everyone of us if we so choose.  He hopes we will.  That is the true essence of the word hope.  It is such a big word that Jesus laid down his life there ... humans understand the significance of life ... at least our own.  Hope ... it's making more sense to me why it is there ... protect, hope, trust, persevere ... love.