“Death has been swallowed up in victory.”

It's a rainy cold day here in the land of the black mountains.

Last week I was trying to find potted herb plants for the windowsill because i am basically a hobbit, and find great joy in growing things. So after successfully finding basil, lavender and rosemary, I notice fresh cut parsley was in great abundance at the open market. Me and Jesse spent about 5 minuets trying to ask a woman if they sold live parsley plants using words like 'ground' 'big' and acting out the most absurd things. I am pretty sure they were completely confused. They did hand eventually hand us a parsley with the bare root still attached, it was dead, it was obvious the root is used for cooking something. 

So we bought it anyways. 20 cent for their 10 minutes of trying to understand the crazy foreigners. When I got home, I don't know any recipes that call for parsley root, so we laughed and stuck the dead root in the soil anyways. 

This rainy cold morning I noticed the brightest green fresh leaves amidst the yellow straw like shoots. 

It was beautiful; not the power of nature, but the power of God. A stunning reminder of my position before the father. I am full of self, dead, dried out, and useless. He is fresh and faithful every new morning. He brings the dead to life, he awakens our comma like souls, He alone has victory over death.

“Death has been swallowed up in victory.”