3 Days in the Grave
Our circumstances define the lens through which we experience each year.
Approximately 14 months and 3 days ago, my sister-in-law lost her battle with breast cancer. It was brief, fierce, surprising, and strong. Sarah left this world incredibly well--and by that I mean, she was like a burning FIRE for the Lord! Even in her death, she witnessed to many, sharing her struggles and her faith in Jesus Christ. She shared her fears and then she took them back to the truth of the Bible and examined them before Scripture, turning fears into fire, and setting her eyes Heavenbound again.
And yet, there was still (is still) sorrow is her absence.
Anyone that has lost a family member may know that the first year of "firsts" is usually the hardest. Every holiday is raw with feelings too close and too fragile to share with the public.
I can barely remember last Easter (our first holiday after her death) but this year, Easter surprised me with a new insight to 3 days in the grave and Jesus' vistors arriving at the tomb.
You know the crucifixion/resurrection story---Jesus was publicly hung on the cross to die. After his brutal death he was laid in a tomb. Three days later, some women came to the tomb and found his body missing. Later they discovered his body was not stolen or removed, but he was alive, defeating death.
This year my heart was drawn to the women. I noticed them for the first time. I noticed that they weren't going to do a routine job. They weren't going for the purpose to discover anything. They would have been going as mourners. Yes, they had a job to do. When someone you love dies, there are many logistics and jobs to do. They had the job to clean the tomb. I noticed they would have been exhausted from crying, numb to the physical task moving on to the next daily chore, and picking themselves up to do the work that just has to be done.
Have you felt these emotions too? It's a crazy realization that while your world was shaken and your world stood still for days after your loved one died....everything else continued on as normal. I still remember the first time I removed myself from my "world on hold" and went back to reality. I went to the grocery store, on the verge of tears with every step. I had to feed my kids but nothing sounded good. I eventually filled my cart and then I had to make small talk with the checker. All the while, she had no idea how broken I was. Then, for the first time ever, a young man escorted my bags to the car. More small talk. THAT question, "How are you doing?" had never felt more trite than in that moment. I spared him the details and just said I needed to get home.
With all of this I look at the women going to the tomb and realize they are in that moment. They are exhausted from days of weeping and missing Jesus. They probably saw people on their way to the tomb. Do you wonder if anyone asked them, "How are you?" But just the physical act of getting ready to go out and clean the tomb would have been so heavy on their hearts, revisiting the place where Jesus once was. I ache this year with these women.
At that time, death and final and permanent. They didn't know they would be the first to see a resurrected Jesus. That wasn't even a possibility! I just really see these women this year and I see them as more than the friends who walked up the hill and found the empty tomb. They aren't part of the story anymore, they became living to me this year.
But praise God for the miracles he worked in that time. Because the tomb was empty and because Jesus died and rose again we, in this time, have a hope for life everlasting with Christ seated at his table in heaven. The women are a part of my story. The women are a living part of my story. And this year I terribly miss my sister-in-law still because earth is a place of hurt, but I know she is whole and dancing in heaven with Christ. She's enjoying the banquet He has prepared.
Approximately 14 months and 3 days ago, my sister-in-law lost her battle with breast cancer. It was brief, fierce, surprising, and strong. Sarah left this world incredibly well--and by that I mean, she was like a burning FIRE for the Lord! Even in her death, she witnessed to many, sharing her struggles and her faith in Jesus Christ. She shared her fears and then she took them back to the truth of the Bible and examined them before Scripture, turning fears into fire, and setting her eyes Heavenbound again.
And yet, there was still (is still) sorrow is her absence.
Anyone that has lost a family member may know that the first year of "firsts" is usually the hardest. Every holiday is raw with feelings too close and too fragile to share with the public.
I can barely remember last Easter (our first holiday after her death) but this year, Easter surprised me with a new insight to 3 days in the grave and Jesus' vistors arriving at the tomb.
You know the crucifixion/resurrection story---Jesus was publicly hung on the cross to die. After his brutal death he was laid in a tomb. Three days later, some women came to the tomb and found his body missing. Later they discovered his body was not stolen or removed, but he was alive, defeating death.
This year my heart was drawn to the women. I noticed them for the first time. I noticed that they weren't going to do a routine job. They weren't going for the purpose to discover anything. They would have been going as mourners. Yes, they had a job to do. When someone you love dies, there are many logistics and jobs to do. They had the job to clean the tomb. I noticed they would have been exhausted from crying, numb to the physical task moving on to the next daily chore, and picking themselves up to do the work that just has to be done.
Have you felt these emotions too? It's a crazy realization that while your world was shaken and your world stood still for days after your loved one died....everything else continued on as normal. I still remember the first time I removed myself from my "world on hold" and went back to reality. I went to the grocery store, on the verge of tears with every step. I had to feed my kids but nothing sounded good. I eventually filled my cart and then I had to make small talk with the checker. All the while, she had no idea how broken I was. Then, for the first time ever, a young man escorted my bags to the car. More small talk. THAT question, "How are you doing?" had never felt more trite than in that moment. I spared him the details and just said I needed to get home.
With all of this I look at the women going to the tomb and realize they are in that moment. They are exhausted from days of weeping and missing Jesus. They probably saw people on their way to the tomb. Do you wonder if anyone asked them, "How are you?" But just the physical act of getting ready to go out and clean the tomb would have been so heavy on their hearts, revisiting the place where Jesus once was. I ache this year with these women.
At that time, death and final and permanent. They didn't know they would be the first to see a resurrected Jesus. That wasn't even a possibility! I just really see these women this year and I see them as more than the friends who walked up the hill and found the empty tomb. They aren't part of the story anymore, they became living to me this year.
But praise God for the miracles he worked in that time. Because the tomb was empty and because Jesus died and rose again we, in this time, have a hope for life everlasting with Christ seated at his table in heaven. The women are a part of my story. The women are a living part of my story. And this year I terribly miss my sister-in-law still because earth is a place of hurt, but I know she is whole and dancing in heaven with Christ. She's enjoying the banquet He has prepared.
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