Sad and distressed they walk the way home.
Nothing went as planned, now he was dead, all hope gone.
A stranger and fellow travel asks why the long face.
One dares to reply, speaks how their hopes were dashed.
The stranger patiently explains the story of it all being true.
Points out the prophets who foretold this way
of suffering, death, disappointment, failure.
How do we forget the failure that this was?
How Jesus dying in this way, as a common criminal
was a complete failure. Yet it is all turned on its head by
Resurrection story. What was lost has been remade.
Seen in simple things like breaking bread.
What was lost is now the story of being reborn.
Maybe failure is not death, but a chance.
A chance to see things more simply.
When we only count look at numbers, age, new programs
Are we really looking at resurrected hope. There is a place
where God says I picked you because you were the smallest.
Not the biggest, not the brightest, not the most powerful.
Can we be known in the simple things, can we know
Him in the breaking of our ideas of what should
be and allow Christ to be resurrected in what can be?
Our growth depends on the simple, inner answer.