Today has been a quiet, meditative Easter. So I've been sitting here in my “comfy” chair and thinking. I was reflecting on Jesus’ death and how it must have seemed so final. It was the end. They were beginning to trust this Jesus and then he died a horrible death at the hands of his enemies. They were just beginning to have hope and then “bam” it was snuffed out like a candle. I was thinking of their confusion when the women ran in saying that Jesus was alive. They wanted to believe, but the situation must have seemed so bleak, so unlikely, so impossible that it was just too much to think about right at that moment. Then later, Jesus joined them in the upper room. Imagine their joy! As I was thinking about how overjoyed they must have felt, I couldn’t help weeping myself. I was weeping for the unimaginable joy that they must have felt when they realized Jesus was alive. I was weeping with gratitude for all that Jesus endured for me. I had tears of joy that Jesus overcame death. The grave was no match for my savior. Praise God! His disciples had hope. It is the kind of hope that shoots out of the ground like the first crocus of spring. They had hope that Jesus was the Son of God. We can have that hope too. If he can conquer the most bitter enemy of death, is there anything too hard for him? Yes, we have hope that Easter was just the launching pad of greater things because he lives. Life without Easter would truly be a life without hope, but we do have the hope of Easter.
