Resurrection Sunday

From the Archives: March 27, 2005

If God is for us, who can ever be against us? Since he did not spare even his own Son but gave him up for us all, won’t he also give us everything else?  Romans 8:31b-32 (NLT)

I cannot be classified in any sense as a “musician.” A parent —yes. But a musician? No. So when my son’s trumpet was brought to me with the mouthpiece unable to free itself from the trumpet, the musician in me kicked into gear. Oh wait, I’m just a parent, not a musician. Oh well, I can fix this. No problem. Let me at it.

I took the trumpet out to the garage and introduced it to some of my favorite tools, of which there aren’t too many. I picked the ones that would grasp it firmly, show it who is boss, and twist it into conformity and obedience to my will. I was going to get this mouthpiece out that trumpet. Or else.

Or else won. By the time I brought the trumpet back into the house, it had whooped me. It was nothing more than a twisted hunk of tubing that was now in two pieces. I was humiliated. Of course, I wasn’t angry in the least. My cheerful disposition continued to shine throughout the entire incident. There was really no hope for this horn, so what’s a parent to do?

Off to a musician it went. It took a week (a week in which my son had to borrow someone else’s horn for an exam) to get the trumpet repaired and ready for music once again. It is now whole again, with a corresponding hole in my wallet to the tune of 57 bucks. I’ve learned my lesson — parents don’t fix trumpets, musicians do. I just hope I didn’t scratch it beyond recognition because it’s a rental!

But I also learned another lesson, and it’s a little more spiritual. People come to church – even on Easter – with broken lives. Often, they don’t know how to fix life by themselves, so they just squeak by week after week. Sometimes pride gets in the way, and they won’t take their life to Jesus who would love to make all the necessary repairs.

If you’ve come this morning with an achy heart, bring it to the Master. All the bunnies and eggs and chocolate of Easter Sunday will never fix life, they’ll just cover over the gaping hole. They’ll dull the pain temporarily. But this morning, listen carefully and hear how Jesus came to heal life. Your life.

Maybe you’ll meet the Great Musician, the one who will mend any break, heal any wound, cover any scab. Stop trying to fix your life out at your own tool shed. Bring it to Jesus. Give it to Jesus. He can handle it. Don’t get distracted by Easter, see the reality of Resurrection Sunday. The Savior lives today to mend your broken life. You can keep on trying to fix it yourself, or you can turn to Jesus. Which makes more sense? Let Jesus do what Jesus does best. Give life and hope and peace and joy and a secure future that’s just heavenly. Something your own tools will never provide.

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