 I grew up in a place where you can see resurrection. On Treaty 1 territory, some people call it spring, but the mystery of that delicate purple crocus breaking through ice and snow towards new life, miraculous, transformative, that looks like resurrection to me. I haven't forgotten the resurrection, the powerful truth at the center of Christian faith that death is not the last word. But I do want to tie a gentle thread from that earth-shaking, faith-restoring Jesus moment to the ordinary resurrections that are here, that are now, if we invite our spirit to see them. Where do we see new life, in families, in communities, in countries, in our aching world? Where do we recognize Easter moments? If you find them, go and tell. Tell me. Tell us. Let's tell each other because some of us only see cold and hard and pain and death. I see new life in the students striking for climate justice or gun control, determined to have a future when so many of us seem to have given up. I recognize it in resilience of the peacemakers over the cynics in South Sudan. Should this fragile peace be a new beginning? I hear it in indigenous resurgence, languages, cultures and worldviews that resist and thrive. I experience it in the creator's work, in the green that pushes through scorched ground, in the rivers that renew in the species that revive when we practice relationship instead of domination. Where do you see new life? This year may the telling of the Easter story open our senses anew. May we look and listen for resurrections. And when we discover new life, as the women did that Easter mourn, may we go and tell. May we inspire ourselves and others to see, to claim, to be that newness, impossible new life in the face of the world's despair. My friends, Christ is risen. Amen indeed, alleluia and happy Easter from all of us at Kairos.