Who is this man?
Last night I witnessed men who had been afraid to follow my King boldly come out of hiding and help with the burial. Their hearts now opened. From the tomb, I heard guttural sobs as sacred rituals were performed.
When all had left, soldiers pushed a large round stone to secure the tomb. A large number stood guard. Why? This was not usual, what were they afraid of? (Mattew 27:62-66)
Now morning has come and I sit under an olive tree in the sweltering sun, where I fitfully slept last night. My tired eyes are stinging from the cries of distress that have been mounting in my heart since dawn.
Footsteps brush up the sandy road generating a smokey cloud around a figure. Raising a hand over my eyes I squint to see who it is. Mary, the mother of my King. I wave to attract her attention as I want to express my condolences. Seeing my gesture she digs deep to find a smile and walks over.
Standing I greet this awesome woman. We gently embrace for a moment then just like her Son, she penetrates my eyes with such kindness that I am bowled over. In this intense moment, I know Mary understands the meaning of my King's sacrifice.
A Secret revealed
My distraught heart rises as Hope descends upon my tears.
"His death had a purpose, the Son of God will be back.....!"
This week is Holy Week a time to ponder on the events leading up to Christ's death and Resurrection. We too are on a journey not necessarily to the same grotesque end, but nonetheless to a place that requires sacrifice, forgiveness and love to walk there.
Come and join me each day as I accompany Jesus on His journey.
(Note: This is my expression of Holy Week, the order of events may have been a bit different.)