Life. Death. Rebirth.

Life. Death. Rebirth.

If you are a practicing Christian, today is a cool day.

In my mind, it’s the point to the entire religious exercise because Jesus got back up and started walking amongst humanity.
And he was moving about his old hood for quite a while before the text shares his accension.

Consider that last sentence.

Close your eyes and take yourself to that exact moment.

What would you have thought?

If you were alive during Jesus’ time, you could have watched the Romans go all Roman on him and kill his body.
It was a brutal death. I cannot imagine the pain, the suffering he endured.
Then the Dude reappeared.
In modern terms, The Dude abided.
He strolled about the grocery store. He hung out in his pajamas.
Virus? What virus?

And there we have the life trick.

From the story, Jesus had nothing else to prove. Right?
He WAS the Dude. He outmaneuvered death.
He feared nothing.

Consider this notion, if you know the ending of the novel before you read, you’ll never suffer.
Reading the back of the book first makes life seem like an easy glide.
(As a minor point, if you author a novel, you don’t start writing until you know the ending.)

My point, if you never suffer, you’ll never feel good or evil.
You’ll never stop to think. You would exist as a numb organism.
If you don’t suffer before success, will you feel successful?

My truth.
I believe in a high-power because I have felt pure evil.
I have felt hate in my body. I have felt hate in my mind.
A cold, calculating hate. It’s a terrible experience.
Somehow, I resisted that hate. I killed that virus off, slowly.

And then I started to understand kindness, generosity, and forgiveness.
I suspect it was from a seed planted inside my genetic code from my Christian missionary grandparents.
They were true believers. They devoted their lives to their faith. And they were the happiest people.

I did not understand them until I noticed gray hair appearing in my thick hair, and inside my thick brain.

I think they saved my life.
Otherwise, I would have taken my life.

On this day, of all days, during this present tense.
I would be remiss if I did not take a moment to say thank you to them.

To write something praising them and perhaps expressing in words the same thoughts others feel about their loved ones.

Thank you to their wondrous spirits.
Thank you to their unconditional loving memory.

And thank you to a spirit I do not understand.
A spirit I cannot comprehend.
Thank you for my life.

I will die someday. It’s a fact. It might be from a deadly virus, a cancer, from violence or a simple accident.
I do not know the date, the hour, or the circumstance.
I will leave it to the fates.

I possess hope. It’s free.
I’ll give it to you.
I feel love for others. It’s free.
I’ll share it without reservation.
I pray you’ll share hope and love, too.

Someday I believe our spirits will remain.

I know our spirits will abide.

NS