In the last week of Jesus’ life on earth, he continued his teaching and preaching, closely questioned by his critics, yet welcomed by the crowds, only to be abandoned by his closest friends and followers, betrayed, arrested, and forced to suffer a painfully cruel death.

Yet three days later came the triumph! God raised Jesus from death—to everyone’s surprise, yet in keeping with everything that he had tried to teach them. He met Mary in the garden with words of comfort, greeted his other disciples with words of peace, ate with them, made them breakfast, commissioned them all to share the good news of new life, and promised to be with them forever.

Today we have this hope—that out of death comes new life, that out of sorrow and suffering there will be renewal, everlasting comfort, peace, and the presence of God. The death and resurrection of Jesus means new creation for us and for all things!

This morning, I couldn’t help but think of “I dwell in Possibility” by Emily Dickinson, an American poet writing in the 1800s. Although her poem doesn’t mention Easter or resurrection, the way she writes of possibility and paradise makes it an Easter poem for me. She uses one word that I had to look up: gambrel, which is a kind of roof with an upper slope and a steeper lower slope that makes the roof shorter and broadens the interior space. Below is a photo of what I think is a gambrel roof—but if any of you know better, I welcome your correction.

In the meantime, when I think of Dickinson’s “gambrels of the sky,” I think of the sky as a broad, sheltered space, which is a lovely image. I hope you’ll enjoy her poem as much as I do, and I pray it might open up possibility for you too.

I dwell in Possibility

by Emily Dickinson

I dwell in Possibility –

A fairer House than Prose –

More numerous of Windows –

Superior – for Doors –

Of Chambers as the Cedars –

Impregnable of eye –

And for an everlasting Roof

The Gambrels of the Sky –
Of Visitors – the fairest –

For Occupation – This –

The spreading wide my narrow Hands

To gather Paradise –

Writing/Reflection Prompt: I love the open-endedness of this poem, ending not with a period but with – In what way(s) do you dwell in possibility?