Monday, April 6, 2026

Artemis and Bad Cats

When most people hear the word “Artemis,” they think of either NASA’s lunar mission or the Greek goddess of hunting, childbirth, and wild animals. I, however, think of an orange cat we owned over 20 years ago.

Now, it’s fitting that the goddess Artemis ruled over wild animals—because our Artemis was a wild animal. One minute she was sweet, purring, and curled up like a Hallmark card… and the next minute she was a full-blown, demon-possessed ninja. 

This cat sent two family members to the ER. Every single one of us was injured (by Artemis) at some point. We didn’t own Artemis—Artemis allowed us to live in her house under constant threat.

The final straw? She launched herself onto Christopher’s face and nearly removed his eyelid. That earned us a trip to the Children’s Eye Hospital in Birmingham—and Artemis a one-way ticket out of our lives. I’m fairly certain she is now curled up comfortably somewhere near the fireplace in Satan's den, feeling completely at home.

But as we think about Easter—and what comes next—the Artemis mission (the NASA one, not the feline terrorist) got me thinking about something deeper: the dreaming, the work, and the anticipation behind something truly monumental.

Here’s where that leads us:

1. Marvel at the Moment - We are living in a time where something like the Artemis mission is possible—and that’s amazing. But let’s be honest—it doesn’t even come close to Easter.

The Resurrection is not just impressive—it is unprecedented. Yes, people like Lazarus and Jairus’ daughter were raised… but they died again. Jesus didn’t just come back—He defeated death itself.

As Charles Wesley wrote in 1739, “Christ has opened paradise.”

The curtain was torn. The barrier of death was shattered. Jesus didn’t just walk out of the tomb—He stepped into our reality and made a way where there was no way.

And here’s the miracle: we don’t just admire it… we follow Him through it—all the way to the Father’s house.

2. Plan for the Promise - Every space mission begins with a vision. But between vision and launch, there’s a lot of work.  Calculations. Training. Design. Preparation. No one just “wings it” to the moon.

And neither do we.  As a church, we’re planning - VBS, choir and art camp, youth and children’s events. There’s excitement, anticipation, and yes… a lot of spreadsheets and meetings.

But behind all of that are two powerful reminders:

The Ascension (May 14): “You will be my witnesses.”
Pentecost (May 24): The Spirit comes, and the Church is ignited.
Those are our “launch moments.”

We are not just planners—we are witnesses.
We are not just organized—we are empowered.
We are not just busy—we are built to fly.

3. Take Out the Trash - Years ago, working with the Incline Railway in Chattanooga, we got new rail cars… and discovered they were too heavy to safely operate. So we did something unexpected—we stripped off every ounce of unnecessary weight.

Turns out, if you want something to move… you have to lighten the load. That’s not just engineering—that’s Scripture. Hebrews tells us: “Let us strip off every weight that slows us down.”

To escape Earth’s gravity, a rocket must reach 17,600 mph.
To live the life Christ calls us to—what weight do we need to remove?

Fear?
Bitterness?
Comfort?
Control?

On Sunday, we talked about “removing the grave clothes.” Lazarus needed help getting unwrapped.
Jesus left His behind in the tomb.

If we want to move forward—if we want to launch—we can’t keep dragging death with us. If we’re going to step into what God is calling us to:

We must marvel at the Resurrection
We must plan with purpose and expectation
We must let go of what weighs us down
And through it all, we never lose sight of our power source:

The same Jesus who walked out of the grave ... is the One who calls us to rise, move, and follow.

So let’s get ready. We’re not just sitting in the pews. We’re on the launchpad.

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