I cannot fault the earth that gave place for the tree to root, nor the rain and sun that provided it life. And yet there grew the tree.
I won’t place blame on the axe that fell it, nor the man that wielded it and brought it to crash on the life giving ground.
I cannot fault the carpenter that gave it form and function, or the blacksmith that forged the spikes. I can’t blame the hammer that drove them. A hammer can both build and be used to break…or in the case of assembling a particular cross; both.
I cannot blame the thorny bush, or the soul who cut the branch that formed a crown.
I cannot fault the sun that rose and shone that day, or the path he walked while those that gathered stood idle.
I cannot blame the day that was passing during which he died, or the fabric his perished being was wrapped in.
I won’t place blame on the darkness in which he was laid to rest, or the strength of the men who placed a boulder to seal the implacable tomb.
But I can be thankful for the dawn, for the deliverance and evident rebirth. I will continue to praise the miracle and reunion when the third sunrise came to pass.
I can be forgiving of those who put timber and tools to use, who brought an end to one life as we know it…and in turn, eternal life to being. It seems that even misguided evil can manifest mystery and miracle.
In all of my life, I have been taught sacrifice on so many levels, but I think I finally understand how love makes it worthwhile, hope makes it possible, and faith–faith makes it real.
I cannot see the wind, but I never question that it rustles the leaves and lifts the desert. I cannot touch the sunshine, yet it brings me sight and accompanies me through shadow and warmth. I cannot understand why the stream fills with salmon that return to spawn and die, without ever knowing if the effort would turn to fry and perpetuate the life cycle. And yet they leave the sea and head home nonetheless.
I no longer feel my mother’s hand upon mine, and yet she never ceases to touch me. And I won’t stop believing that she waits for me and others where she is now.
All I need is forgiveness, acceptance, patience, faith, and most of all love…to know that come morning, the stone will have moved, and reunion will be at hand.
And sure as the sun will rise at Sunday’s dawn…so too will have the Son.
Keep the faith and be good to each other. I bid Happy Easter to one and all.
Matthew Lyle Landsman
Early Easter 2012
Matthew Lyle Landsman 
Sabbath i heard a man speak the word of God. He reminded his “flock” that in life we may go through alot of pain and disappointment, we may not always understand our questions of why, or why not, and some of us become lost and stuck in time. Sorrow can turn to bitterness, or isolation, or even separation from God. But our savior is alive, unlike the many religions that existed. There is but one Savior and He reigns and rules forever and ever. So though we may grieve, we can come to our heavenly father, and lay it before Him. he is Alive. He will help us through our trials. And its only Friday….but Sunday is a-comin’.
Matt, spending my easter in Iraq, should be on my way home to Luchenbach Thailand in a few days, mom and dad are on there way there as well for a couple of weeks to take Woodrow Norman and Amy Lyn to Disneyland in HongKong end of april. We are having a house warming at the Duffield Banana Ranch the 9th April, should be 9 monks stopping by to bless the place. Wish you could be there.
cheers cousin
Matt. This is so beautiful and brought a tear to my eye, but not a tear of sadness a tear of strength, peace, and calm. It is beautiful. Your writing is an inspiration. Thank you for sharing.
Your friend.
Alesia
Well friend, you can thank The Father for my abilities with words, and my parents for this old heart of mine…Have a great day. Matthew
This is beautifully written and touches me every time I read it!! Wonderfully done Matty~ Lor