Saturday’s Mourning In Glory: Returning To Life

Entombed in the thickest of forests He lay, donning a dark shroud of cool deadened leaves. Limbs that once held the glorious weight of the world were now, at the last, but scattered timbers on sacred grounds. Branches that once shouldered the burden of the blame had broken from the main, and still the vines held fast! Everything for which He stood – a scheme inside a dream; His crowning achievement – a sacrificial theme; all was laid to rest beside the petrifying flesh of His ancestors.

Many a number of trees in these woods were born of His seed. Year after year, they continued to fill the avoided spaces with new life. Surrounding Him now, one by one, they began to pay homage to His grandeur. The critters nearby crept forth in a slow procession. The sun lightened its pace, whilst the raven kept his quiet, keeping a keen eye on the softly landing white doves. ‘Twas the perfect mourning for the painful ~ exacting ~ moments to spring forth and reclaim their royal birthrights.

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21 thoughts on “Saturday’s Mourning In Glory: Returning To Life

  1. Although we come from different spiritual backgrounds I have a feeling we believe much the same where it matters. Glad I found you in the forest. 🙂

  2. Obvious picture of all our lives. We all have roots connecting each other, and we all come from the same planted seed. Although, some roots die and lay far beneath ground…we still gain new growth and branch out, to the one with the first seed. In that fact…growth is endless.. ~j~

    Ms. Boss 😉

  3. Mi’Lady sounds very deep. You must be well-grounded. 😉
    You are right, though. A child isn’t made,
    and then placed on this Earth.
    They merely grow here.
    Thank God!
    UT 🙂

  4. ‘You don’t get grander than grandeur and that be the sap of the True Vine that hangs on Uncle Tree.’ Thus spake the raven, who delighted in considering each aspect, for it is only when we gather all together that we gather it 😉

    You got it Uncle and you gives it to we 🙂

  5. If I grab your aspect, I gather you’ll get it, by golly! 🙂 No, really –

    I’m just glad you granted me the grandest gesture of goodness.
    (I gather you have no axe to grind. Yeah!)

    You’re a gem of a gentleman. Thank you, sir!

  6. Your vision of all of this is perfect, Uncle Tree..the nature theme intertwined with the love of Christ & His sacrifice is lovely. God bless you and may your Easter be as beautiful as you are. (hugs) Adrienne

  7. That’s a mighty fine compliment, Adrienne. 🙂 Thank you truly!
    I pray the sun shines upon us all tomorrow. Do enjoy your blessed Easter Day.

    Hugz, Uncle Tree

  8. Thank you very much, Linda. God bless you.

    I wrote the original prose on Good Friday in 2009. then posted it the next morning. Shortly thereafter, the phone rang. It was my sister-in-law. My older brother, Marty, was in the midst of a heart attack, and was on his way to the hospital in an ambulance.

    Thank God, he pulled through, and survives to this day; a day of remembrance. Scared the holy crap out of me, though! I went out to the back porch to pray, cry, and talk Marty into staying with us. I tremble again as I write this. For a moment, I felt kinda psychic. How did I know? Just another weird coincidence in my long life, I suppose. Or, maybe knot.

    Hope your walks stay lovely.
    Be patient with yourself and the weather, and you’ll be fine.
    I just know it. 😉 Cheerz, UT

  9. You are welcome.

    That is quite a coincidence for you. I am glad that Marty survives to this day. A heart attack took my grandmother – she did not make it to the hospital. All her siblings had heart disease, one died of a leaky valve at age 18. My mom had an arrhythmia. I hope it has skipped a generation and I am okay. Heart attacks are something major and Marty is lucky.

    Easter weekend is always quiet for me. On Easter Saturday my mom and I were out in the car and had some errands. I took her home and went back out to go to the bank. Came home to find her sitting in a chair, dazed and confused and said she was dizzy. I helped her walk down the hall. She laid on the bed face down, without removing her clothes or the bedspread. She never spoke to me until Easter morning. I tried to talk to her, she shooed me away and said to leave her alone. I was scared … no family at all. She would not go to the hospital, finally consented to go on Monday the 13th. We were at the E.R. for 12 hours, if not longer, for them to say she was dizzy as she was dehydrated. I didn’t believe it then, nor now, and the dizziness persisted and was the beginning of a quick decline in her health until she passed away on January 31, 2010. But every Easter, I think of those little chocolate bunnies I had bought for her/I and some jelly beans for her as well. I could not bear to throw them away – I still have them downstairs in the cupboard.

    I will be patient with the weather – Mother Nature likes to have the upper hand. 🙂

  10. Sharing one’s grief and sadness can have a healing effect.
    Hope it helps in this case, however small that help might seem.
    Jelly beans make for easy keeping memories. God bless your mom, Linda.

    Have a blessed Easter and/or a fun April Fool’s Day. Peace and luvz, UT

  11. Yes, that is true – my Easter memories are marred by that fateful Easter in 2009; my Christmas memories are marred by my father sitting on the floor opening gifts on Christmas morning 1983 and announcing he didn’t want to be part of the family anymore. A month later he took all the assets and left the country. I try on both days to occupy myself all day and not dwell on it too much, but it is always in the back of my mind.

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