The Morning After.

I sat here this morning trying to envision what Jesus’ followers must have felt like the morning after they watched his execution.  While I cannot attest to its biblical accuracy, I can only attest to this being what I picture in my mind.

It was the morning after.
People were waking, lying in bed, wondering if the day before had been a nightmare.
As they began to stir, the reality of it all began to sink in.  How could this be?

So many questions , so many fears, so many doubts. 
They thought they had found hope, a savior, but yet, this same man who had performed miracles did not save himself. 
They began to question if all their hope had been false. 
This man they had loved, adored, and worshipped, gone. 
Why, they asked, did he not end it all before it ever happened? 

How could he save us if he could not save himself?

The morning after, the world had lost its color, the sky gray and heavy as were the hearts of everyone who had been there.

They went through the motions as the day began, it all seemed surreal.  
Together, they sat at breakfast, the food meaningless, the room silent at first, no one able to eat.
Then they began to talk only to relive each moment over and over from the day before.
The cruelty they’d witnessed, the sound of the whips as they cracked across his back.
The torture and pain they almost physically felt themselves as the nails were driven.
They could still hear the naysayers laughter, their taunting, see them spit and spew evil.

It was a day they would never forget; it was a day from which they never thought they could recover.

And so they sat, lost, bewildered, hopeless.
How could they feel any other way after seeing the one man who had come to save them nailed to a cross and die?

Little could they have known joy was coming, a joy they had never felt before, a miraculous joy they could have never imagined.

How could they know joy and hope would come in an instant as Jesus took his first breath in the tomb….

a breath as powerful as the first one he took in a manger.

How sad they didn’t know that morning that they had something so magnificent to look forward.

How grateful are we to know that we do?

Love,
Tracey
Just a Crazy Girl

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