Christian joy is not born where we think. It explodes in the shadow of a cross. It rises from wounds, from a death that should have ended everything—and didn’t. This Lent, we are being pulled back to that place, to a love so concrete it refuses to let us stay numb, distracted, or half-alive. We are being asked whether our lives are truly ours… or whether they were secretly, tenderly, claimed long ago by nail-pierced han… Continues…