...time for you to
Rise up! with a sudden sense of wonder
Rise up! as the joy comes to your eyes
Rise up! from the burden you’ve been under
Beloved, it is time for you to rise, time for you to rise!
-David Wilcox, "Rise," Into the Mystery

I've been a little scarce here recently. Of course. When my life is full and happy, few pictures get taken, few blog entries get written. There's been lots of grace and good stuff in these few days, but I'm tired, so most of it won't get written. Maybe later.

We did have a wonderful Easter celebration this morning. The tradition here is to bring bells and ring them on the phrase "Christ is risen!" So there is this pleasant jangling cacophony woven throughout the service--during anthems, throughout the sermon, at the benediction. But the noisy bell-ringing is not my favorite part of Easter. I love the quieter times when the bells aren't being rung, yet aren't quite still either. There is this constant hushed tinkling that goes on. Kids with bells in their laps can't keep quite still, older folks shift in their chair or accidentally kick the bells sitting at their feet, and it creates this persistent sound of... trembling, for lack of a better word. And I think, yeah. The whole creation quakes with life. That's Easter. That's resurrection. If you're motionless and silent and decorous in the midst of resurrection, you're missing the point, or maybe it's too late for you.