When Matthew records resurrection, the world shakes and thunder drowns out the everyday sounds of the world. But, in my life, resurrection has just snuck into the world on cat feet, as Carl Sandberg put it. Sometimes, even the person giving the news doesn't hear it.
Waiting in the waiting room today for a young man (21 years old) in stage 4 congestive heart failure after a virus left his heart mortally wounded, I was reminded of 6 months ago. We waited for hours, and then, a person calls on the phone who has so honed the gifts of heart, mind, and hand to routine habits of sight, thought, and action that they can reconstruct hearts. In simple graceless fact-filled sentences, they hand a life back to an astonished family grateful beyond words. It is just another day for the surgeon and the nurses, but for Eddie it is a new day-- a whole new life.
I sit listening to the blogosphere, reading and trying to process all the churn of information and analysis that I swim in every day, and I wonder where the quiet resurrection is happening in me, and around me today. Preaching on the parable of the sower at Grace Presbyterian Village ( a retirement home nearby), then visiting those who cannot get out of bed to come to the service has a way of opening my eyes. So, a sower goes out to sow... quiet miracles.