I sit and rock my baby girl. She coos and looks up at me and I’m her whole word. I wrap arms around her and right there in my embrace is everything that is fragile and strong and beautiful about being alive. The tenderness and the courage of being connected.

And it’s me hugging Zoe like I wish I could hug my little brother, my sister-in-law.

How I would wrap blankets and love and warm milk around them if I could. How I would wipe away tears and the bad news that even oceans can’t prevent from arriving.

We’re broken. Always and everything here in this world constrained by time and distance and sin. We’re broken and waiting and wondering when we will feel put back together again. Until then we cry together and rock our babies and remember that right here in this small house and overgrown yard, right here in this kitchen with its never empty dishwasher, right here in this bedroom with its bunk bed and the boys that never go to sleep on time and the man who always tucks them back in. Right here is how the fixing starts.

Right here with these two hands.

We glue each other together because that is what we have. No matter how empty our everything else, Christ has given us rich helpings of Himself. And with that we cement each other back together. He is the cornerstone, the glue, the grace and the promise.

And He lives here in the nooks and crannies of my every day life. When I hang up the phone I look around and I see Him everywhere. I see Him in the sun streaming across the changing table and the stray rescue heroes I tripped over last night and the baby girl curled up in a living testimony of trust, right here against my chest.

I live because Christ lives in me.

Not because I have the house or the car I want. Not because my kids behave or obey me in public. Not because I remembered to defrost the meat for dinner. Not because I have the job I wanted or the computer that’s finally fixed and connected to the Internet again.

I live because Christ lives in me.

Even when my body no longer lives.

When cancer or speeding drivers steal that from us, we live still. Because we are tucked into the crook of His heart and we live in Christ.

And Christ always lives.

“Death has been swallowed up in victory.”
“Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, my dear brother [and sister, ]stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

1 Corn 15:55-58.

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