“But when Pharaoh saw that the rain and the hail and the thunder had ceased, he sinned again and hardened his heart, he and his servants.”
“Moreover, they shall take some of the blood and put it on the two doorposts and on the lintel of the houses in which they eat it.”
Drawn together by thin cords they came to celebrate the Passover Seder this sacred week.
Gaunt and Goth, all in black she embraced each family member. Her once gorgeous curves reduced to straight lines by diet and drug, nicotine and nerves. The loss of a sister, failure of heart; the loss of a son, unending questions; the loss of a husband, bitter betrayal. Sweet of heart and gentle of spirit, who will lift the darkness?
Her hair cut manly-short, her clothing masculine-but not. Pink blouse cut to accentuate form, stylish slacks, womanhood waits, wrestling, underneath the surface.
The bronze silk shimmered; her dress too tight around her waist reveals stomach. What was too tight around waist was too loose up top, discloses breasts.
Their child of two-and-a half, conceived of science and in third-parties, all little girl she chased the puppy around the back-yard.
Deep seated anger and gender confusion are part of a bigger brokenness.
Hearts dying to love, the water turns to blood. Who can cleanse and purify, making the water pristine?
The hail fell hard on his life. His first wife dying young, unexplained heart problem, divorce took number two and Mrs. Number three battling cancer. Pacing, he took a phone call; busy with business, can’t sit for blessing. Moving, talking, joking; masks for his lack of peace and quiet. Who is big enough to shield and protect from catastrophic pain? Who can restore the years the locusts have eaten?
Arms akimbo, His arms frame the doorposts, the blood of The Lamb, slaughtered, stains the doorway.
For Christ our Passover Lamb has been sacrificed.