Then, Easter changed. It became a season of darkness and perpetual death. This darkness settled in my heart after we miscarried our first and only biological child. I was left barren and fruitless. Although Jesus died and resurrected, I remained dead inside because my fertility was dead and would never resurrect.

There's a beautiful juxtaposition on this night between anticipation and dread, the not yet and the soon-to-be; the long-awaited and much-feared, a holy tension.

The wilderness is upon us. Our sandals are worn and our feet are dusty from the journey we have traveled thus far. We stand on the opposite shore of our deliverance, the enemy defeated, yet our work has just begun. We understand that our God has set us free. Our Lord? The One who calls us “chosen”. There is still so little we know of Him, though He has already revealed so much. Have we forgotten the God of our fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob? Our chosen people. Nevertheless