The irony of Jesus being nailed to a wooden cross just occurred to me today (a day back in January) as I was thinking about his death while driving to the Bread Co. to write. It never occurred to me that as a carpenter’s son, he was put to death with the very tools of his trade.
Granted, you don’t hear or read much of his carpenter life, but most likely if he hadn’t been Jesus, he would have grown up to be a carpenter like his father. Can you imagine his straight edges and smooth wood? Anything he had made would have been perfect without effort. Amazing to think about.
Easter this year has passed, and it came and went rather quietly. The sun did come out late morning for a beautiful afternoon. We will finally have spring weather here in southern Illinois, near 60 today and in the 70s by Saturday.
Easter to me means rebirth, new life and hope. I like to think of spring as a rebirth, when new flowers and plants come up out of the ground. And new life can be found on nearby farms where goats and chickens and lambs reside. And best of all, hope for a future without pain or tears.
I thank God for his gift of eternal life, through his Son dying by the tools of his trade—nails and a wooden cross.