On Good Friday this year we gathered together to remember in the presence of a dying saviour those whom we have loved and lost. It was very powerful and humbling experience to lead that service. I’d been living through it all day as I was trying to plan it but still the poignancy of the moments of remembrance left me with a lump in my throat. There’s something amazing about the way in which God constantly startles us like that.
A few days after that service and I was spending time with friends old and new at a college mates stag party. He’d decided that he wanted us all to go paintball. If you’ve been paintballing yourself you’ll know of the pain involved! If you haven’t I’m sure you can imagine the pain of being struck by quite a large capsule of paint that has been spewed from the end of a gun powered by a high pressure canister of compressed gas. What you may not be imaging is all the other pain that paintballing incurs! My legs were killing me! Had I thought properly about how much running I was going to be doing and how much of that running would be uphill and through mud I may have taken the time to at least warm up a little. So lying in the bath the day after with my thighs complaining that I really hadn’t thought things through properly I was forced to think again about unexpected pain.
This season of Easter gives us a chance in the light of Gods love, grace and victory on the cross to think again about pain. To remember those moments in our lives that have hurt us that we may have allowed to become almost forgotten and buried, but to remember them in a time of rebirth and allow them, through God, to be transformed.