Contrast

Isn't it amazing how leaves begin to turn in early fall in such a sneaky way?  I was driving to New Bedford this morning and it surprised me to see how some color is already painting the tops of many trees along the way.  The beautiful contrast of the oranges and yellows against the green jumps at you when the eyes wander off the road for a split second...

Gasp! Look at that!  Time has lapsed and a new season is here.  

I don't know why I'm thinking about this today...maybe it's the gorgeous way the sunlight is hitting the hills in front of our house.  Perhaps it's the soft cool breeze caressing my feet as it filters in through the wide open windows in this room.  Or maybe it's the constant ticking of the clock on the wall...reminding me of the relentless passing of time...not sure what, but something in the air is moving me toward a quiet contemplation of juxtapositions.  

I know...a fancy word that implies striking differences: the two sides of a shadow: the light and the darkness...  to close our eyes so we can see... to let go so we can gain... to die so we might live... to be wounded so we can be healed... 

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. 1 Peter 2: 24

When I read this verse...when I really read it, I can't help but thinking how such perfect contrast, such strikingly opposing concepts, such juxtaposition can only come from divine inspiration. Peter, no doubt, was writing by the Holy Spirit.  Hope brought up by death: the reality of He who has no sin to become sin in order that we may die to our sin and live to righteousness is overwhelming.  

The hope that His wounds heal me fills my heart with humble gratitude.  The thought that He loves me astonishes me...

The sun begins to set.  The hills are no longer stripped with light and darkness.  The breeze is cooler.  One last look out the window reveals a desire to be still.  

A whisper in my ears move me to recount my blessings:  Blessed is the One Who Died for me.  Blessed are His Wounds that heal.  Blessed is the One who thinks I'm worth it.  Blessed is the day He called me His own.