It’s been a journey, to say the least, between the last blog entry and this one. I’ve wrestled in my heart with being Okay that I am not a regular blogger anymore. I am more of a regular Christ-follower, wife, and stepmother and I’m okay with that.
But it’s the Easter season and my cat woke me up early with her hunger-yowling and the sun was out and it’s the day before Easter, when the disciples were mourning their Teacher and Jerusalem was coming to grips with an earthquaked, sun-blotted world and what they just might have done the day before.
So I just had to write. Easter weekend is important to me, meaningful to me.
But I used to get stuck in the Good Friday-ness of it all. I would certainly ponder Christ’s suffering on the Calvary cross and the utter sacrifice, but I wouldn’t be able to move beyond it.
Since we go to the I Need Jesus Church now, I knew this year’s Easter season services would be different than our previous church’s, which were full of symbolism, drama, and liturgy.
I actually liked that. I loved the Tenebrae service and the pain of realization that always engulfed me, the songs that haunted me in a glorious way. I seemed to feed off how intimately I would ponder Christ’s death.
But I tended to stay in the metaphorical tomb, weeping for Jesus who was clearly on the slab of stone before me.
I seemed to forget what God whispered to me yesterday at our Good Friday service: This is not how the story ends.
No, the story doesn’t end in darkness and the story doesn’t end in death.
But to my poetic, dramatic nature, that is what I feasted on: the intensity.
So can’t I realize the intensity of Jesus’ resurrection?
That is my goal this weekend.
To not get stuck in the tomb of Good Friday, but to join Mary on Easter Sunday as Jesus says,
She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”).
Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”
Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.”
I, too, want to exclaim, I have seen the Lord!
Because I have – in my children, in my husband, in my friends, in strangers, in circumstances that God puts in my way to make me bend low and lift arms high…I have seen the Lord.
So why get stuck in the tomb when no one is there to grieve?
Why nurture my propensity for depression if Jesus took that propensity away?
This is not how the story ends.
As an Esther, as a woman who was chosen for “such a time as this,” as one of so many people chosen for such a time, I know God calls me to look at the cross and see freedom, not bondage.
Jesus freed me.
Even when I fall back into bondage.
Saturday is a time of waiting. When Jesus’ beloved ones had to wait in their grief; they didn’t even know they were waiting. They thought it was over. They thought they were defeated.
How many times do you and I think the ending has happened and we are defeated by our circumstances? How many times have you thrown in the towel. It’s over, right? The pain has eaten us alive.
I’m sure the disciples thought they had been beaten; that their beloved Teacher, their Rabboni, had been killed.
But a three days later they would be reunited with Him and love would reign. They’d realize that His promise was real.
So let us wait in expectancy of Jesus doing amazing things. Jesus doing things that bring glory to His Father and our Father.
Wait with expectancy, knowing that it wasn’t over until Jesus showed us – that He conquered the grave, His love unfailing, the life found in HIm everlasting.
I needn’t get stuck in Good Friday anymore because I know the Hope and the Promise in Jesus Christ better than I knew it before.
And I take joy in that, even in my waiting, even in the waiting of Holy Saturday.
On knees, head low, arms high…