I
miss Him … so much. He was the only One
that really understood me. The only One
that had ever cared. He challenged my
shallow beliefs. He expanded my small
one-sided thoughts exponentially. He
breathed color into my dull-gray existence.
He knew me, He respected me, He loved me… a woman. He was my best friend.
But
more than a friend. He was my
Lord. He was my Life. And I don’t understand why, but He took my
place on that cross. Somehow He paid
the penalty for my sins. It should have
been me! There, hanging on that
cross! He hadn’t done anything
wrong. … I’ll never forget those eyes, that look, as He died… for me. … And now He’s gone.
But
there are these crazy rumors I’ve heard this morning. Talk about missing soldiers and angels and an empty tomb. I saw where they buried Him in the
garden. I’ve just got to go look for
myself. Even if I get arrested for
being His follower. I’ve got to know
the truth ….
As I snuck up to the tomb, I was struck by an eerie silence broken only by occasional chirping birds. Where have the guards gone? Maybe it’s a trap. Wait, that huge stone has been rolled away from the
entrance. I’ve just got to look
inside… It’s empty … except for the
grave clothes… what does this mean? I
like mysteries, but this is like some cruel sick joke. My broken heart couldn’t handle any more…
As
the tears started down their well-worn tracks on my cheeks, I … I thought I
heard my name. I know exhaustion and
grief can play tricks on the brain.
But, I heard it again, behind me. As I slowly turned around, I couldn’t
believe my eyes, or rather His eyes, those eyes I would never forget. Love and compassion being lavished on
me. All I could do was cling to His feet and cry.
I wanted to hold onto Him forever. I didn’t want to lose Him again. But He said He had to return to the
Father. I wanted to tell Him how sorry
I was. I wanted to tell Him how much I
love Him. I couldn’t comprehend that He
was actually alive. My brain was
reeling. How do I begin to describe the
emotions? In a single heartbeat, my
entire world was turned right-side-up.
From the finality of death to the promise of life. From utter despair to awesome hope. From the awful weight of guilt for His death
to …
A zillion thoughts and questions were flooding my
mind. “The Scripture cannot be
broken.” "The Son of Man must
suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of
the law, and He must be killed and on the third day be raised to
life." "I am the resurrection
and the life.” “Unless a kernel of
wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many
seeds.” Where there is no death, there
can be no resurrection … no new life.
And that’s exactly what He had come to give me. New life.
He didn’t come to live and serve and suffer and die to improve my old
life. He wanted to completely replace
it … with His. If I would be willing to
deny myself and take up my cross daily and follow Him.
"Where,
O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?" He had won!
Jesus had claimed victory over death.
He had nailed the Law to the cross.
He had written a new covenant with His blood - not of the letter but of
the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.
Only
God can rise from the dead. Pure love, perfect love, gospel love can never
be contained. He is alive. He Is Alive. HE IS ALIVE!
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