It is finished


 Romans 8:22  “For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers together until now.”  


I heard creation groaning last week. It was a mournful cry along the shoreline. Approaching closer, I saw a goose. It kept up its pitiful cry as I drew near. Then I saw the reason for his anguished call—another  goose was resting on the shore—his mate. Desperate, pleading cries continued as he paced back and forth. I’ve seen loved ones pacing like this in hospital waiting rooms.


But the goose resting in the sand didn’t move. I walked by her quietly and respectfully. She looked comfortable, as if she only stopped to enjoy the sun in this quiet cove. Instead, she’d taken her last breath.


I looked at her mate—waiting, calling, wondering, probably knowing, he was now alone. The sorrowful scene made me ache. His pleading call echoed over the shore. Creation groaned.


Good Friday is the day when Jesus died on the cross. The Son of God groaned. His final words were, “It is finished.” With those three words we are promised an eventual end to the groaning in our earthly home. With those three words we are offered comfort now, knowing it is finished. We await a perfect home.





But as we wait for God’s full redemption of our broken world, we still suffer traumatic losses, and suffer terrible pain.


We hear creation’s groaning among our family, friends, nation, and world.


We groan when we desire what is good, and don’t always receive it. We groan when we lose those we love. We feel tears running down our weary faces.  It’s like Good Friday on those hardest of days. What’s good about it? Good Friday is our reminder that one day our groaning will end for good. “It is finished.”


Jesus opened the door to our new life. Our real life—the one that will be without the groaning, or the tears.


He also opened the door to have Him with us while we wait. We can live more joyfully now because of Him. We can love more fully now because He’s with us. And when we hurt, Jesus reminds us that it won’t last, “It is finished.” Easter morning is coming.



Blessed Easter, my friends.


Popular posts from this blog

Counting the Cost

Image
Something big is missing in this photo. Let me explain. Here in my hometown, the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe prepared a parcel of land for a new hotel. Plenty of planning and architectural designs were evaluated. A gemstone of a hotel would be built across from the waterfront—a beautiful, restful place welcoming travelers. A true four-star facility.   They cleared the aging brick structures that had been fading away between Front Street and Railroad Avenue. Then the pandemic hit, shortages of labor and supplies, add in the costly inflation that followed. Everything stopped.   But this is what I admire about the Elwha Tribe: they have counted the cost. They didn’t want to move forward and take on tremendous debt. They would rather move slowly and be financially ready, rather than begin building and then letting it sit unfinished.   Counting the cost is something I should have done earlier in life when I didn’t know what high interest rates would do to our farming cost...
Read more

Summertime Music

Image
During the summer months, in an outside seating area, a delightfully painted piano sits with a sign that says, “Play me”.   It was just before 8 pm as I walked past the piano. My bus would be arriving soon, and I still have another ten minutes to walk before reaching my bus stop. But no one is around. It’s a beautiful warm evening. I pulled out the piano bench and sat down. The sun was behind me, and the piano keys reflected its glow. I had no music in front of me, only the songs within me. Notes drifted into the air.  In those brief moments, the magic of music and summer came together. Isn’t that how it is? Summertime music has a way of lingering in our minds and lasting a lifetime. As I stood and grabbed my things, I heard distant clapping—I guess I wasn’t alone, after all.
Read more

Planting Good Seeds

Image
Harvest will always depend on what we plant and how well we care for our crop.    Looking over my seed packets, I notice they’re different than the ones I planted before. One package is called Word seeds. The directions say that each of my words is a seed, so it cautions me to think before I speak. Harsh words don’t produce sweet, nourishing fruit. These seeds will require thoughtful care in the garden. I see some Volunteer seeds. Those extra hours I tend to fritter away are going to be planted in a useful project.   It looks like time isn’t wasted in this garden plot. Next are some Love seeds—the directions are interesting: get up each day and love others. No specifics are given—just do something for someone every day. The seed package shows pictures of smiling faces. I smile back. As I’m ready to head to the garden with my seeds, a package falls to the ground. I open it. Inside are the tiniest seeds I’ve ever seen—but the directions s...
Read more