Knit

"I commit my spirit into your hands," Luke 23:46.

Jesus' last, dying breath rises to the One who had knit his body in his mother's womb. To the One whom vast angel armies praised at his birth. To the One who had prepared a body through which he should live out his manliness, his humanity. To the One whose business it was that he, a twelve year-old, was to be about. To the One who had avowed love, pride, and sonship at Jesus' baptism. To the One on whose word he had relied for insight and strength in his life-long struggle for holiness against the Tempter. To the One he had inexorably turned people's hearts to for their salvation, healing, hope. To the One who had led him, step by careful step, to the place of the Skull. To the One who planted him between two convicts. To the One whom he trusted to judge justly. To his Father. His Abba.

With a brother or sister, despite injustices and evil in this world, we commit our spirits to God. And, together, we choose trust in Him and, in faith, we give premature thanksgiving that He will make all things right. Maranatha.