Just imagine.
They thought the world had ended. Everything they believed had fallen apart. The man they trusted, the man they followed, leaving their families and work behind, had died, and it was not a dignified or gentle death. They were unable to comfort him as he left. They mourned. They were afraid, hiding behind closed doors, unsure if they would be next. People gossiped. A poor man, a good man, had died, and the powers that be were ok with that. The world was dark. There were earthquakes.
This was not the plan.
And then, Sunday morning. Just imagine. A garden, blooming with flowers, shining and green, and a woman, alone, grieving, walking in that bright place, perhaps thinking how strange it was to see such beauty and feel such sadness, to be surrounded by life and growth when Jesus was dead. continue reading.
