Last week during holy week, I found myself pondering for a moment what the whole of creation must have felt during those few dark days that Christ lay in the grave. The absence of His presence
-the One who made all, is in all, and is over all, whose hand suspends the world in orbit, and gives breath to every living thing-
in the universe must have been catastrophic.
The anguish. The despair. The blackest void...
When I awoke early on Easter morning to the birds singing their springtime melodies just outside my window, a line from an old song about the resurrection kept replaying itself in my semiconscious mind:
"Did the grass sing? Did the earth rejoice to feel Him again?"
You know what... I think it did.