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It started with sin.

A blatant tear in our world’s perfection. Yet stitch by stitch, sacrifice by sacrifice, hope was built.

And then he came, the King, babbling and drooling and crying. Tentatively, we hoped. And then we tasted a small bit of heaven, and fire was in our hearts. He forgave our sins, healing our souls and our bodies.

We watched with wide eyes and open hearts. He taught, his words perfect and empowering.

But then the vote was cast, and his final moments were spent draped on the cross.

The tears spilled from our eyes, and sobs tumbled from our mouths. But still, trembling, we hoped. We clung to his promises.

And he pulled through. Hope lasted three days, until he came back for us. Our separation was eradicated.

Even though we can’t see him, can’t feel him, we still hope. Because one day, the burden of our sin will fall away. One day, our hope will be met, and all will be at peace. 

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