Mary, after his death

Have you heard? He is alive! My Jesus is alive! Words cannot express how I feel. Just two days ago it seemed that all hope, all life was gone. I have mourned my precious Lord for two long days. But this morning, this very morning I saw him. He spoke to me! To me!! He could have appeared to anyone- to Kings or any of his disciples. But he chose to reveal himself to me.

This morning when we went to the tomb to anoint him one last time it was a scene of such confusion. The tomb shouldn’t have been open. Inside was a young man. He must have been an angel. I was so afraid. Who am I to be in the presence of an angel? And we bowed and wept in fear, in awe. And he asked us why we were seeking the living among the dead. I didn’t understand. But his next words pierced my confusion. He said Jesus has risen just as he had told us He would. He said Jesus was alive, not dead any longer! We had forgotten in our grief that Jesus had told us That this would happen. Don’t you see!!! It was true. Our small minds had refused to believe. We had seen such horror, such hell in the death of our Lord and lost all hope. My heart had been broken when I saw him die. I had lost hope. But with those words, life was breathed back into my heart. And I ran, stumbling and sobbing with joy, with relief and with guilt that I couldn’t see him for everything he was before.

And then he showed himself to me. And I knew it was him when he said my name when I looked in his eyes and saw the way he had always looked at me. When I am with him I know how unworthy I am to be in his presence yet he makes me feel as if he has been waiting for me to appear. I wanted to cling to him, to cry out my grief and sorrow. I choked on the words, and I was caught in my own whirlwind of emotions. I didn’t know whether to move, to speak out of grief or tremendous celebration. And honestly, I just couldn’t understand how this could happen. He was dead! And now my beautiful Jesus, my Lord, my love was standing here before me, beautiful and radiant. And he spoke to me, Mary, once a whore, delivered from demons. Jesus, who has the power to defeat death is standing before me. He told me to go and tell the others. I didn’t want to leave him but I could not refuse. I had to tell Peter and John! I ran, ragged breath, tears blinding me as I ran. My heart was pounding in my ears, “he is alive! He is alive!”

I followed this man from place to place! He loved me, healed me and delivered me! I watched as he spoke to the powerful, the broken, the poor and the unloveable. I watched as he cherished the outcasts and the misfits. I watched as he chose his disciples from the lowliest of our people. And I watched as the most pious and religious of our people rejected him. I had seen his greatness in my own life every day when he looked at me with such compassion and tenderness. He had loved me when everyone else would only spit on me, calling me names kicking their filth on me as they walked by. And yet I had not understood really who he was. I didn’t know that I had been looked upon by the son of God, had been loved by righteousness. And now I know. And everyone else has to know! We have to celebrate to tell everyone about Jesus!

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