I had a life once.
A life without emotion, without feeling.
An empty faith, worthless words, empty worship.
A cold heart that would not move from my chest.
I sought to live, but all was dull, you see.
Dead.
I had heard of Him from books. I had heard whispers that He worked miracles, that His love was greater than anything any eye had seen. I had heard that He was the God who Saves, but I did not feel saved from anything. I had come to the end of myself. My song had left.
And then I saw Him.
The Crucified Savior, the Risen Messiah. The First and the Last, before and behind, beyond all that the rich imagination could devise, beyond all that the hungriest heart could long for. His skin shone, his hands and feet were pierced. His eyes held so much love I could not bear it. He knew everything in me; I knew it.
When I saw Him, I fell at his feet as one dead. And He laid His right hand upon me, and He said,
“Fear not,
Since you were precious in My sight,
You have been honored,
And I have loved you;
I am the First and the Last and the Living One.”
When He was crucified and died, rose up and came up out of a grave, the very fabric of history, of my life was torn to pieces. It changed everything.
I have felt the power of His resurrection in my blood, coursing through this old woman that fades day by day. I am alive as He is alive, and His love pulses in my very bones, as deep as it is universal, as conscious as it is unspeakable.
I am lost, you see, without my Christ. He did not die just so that I may be close to Him and never be guilty again, He rose and defeated death forever, that I may live anew and never die.
How precious He has become to me! Not a distant God who shuts His ears to my hurt, but a Messiah who has loved each part of me since time was woven together. He has remembered me from age to age, has given me life and life indeed.
Where I am going I do not know. I have nothing, can do nothing without His Presence. I have tasted His salvation and new life, and now I cannot go on without Him. He is my only option. If the Grave and the Cross are but a tale, I am finished, for without Him I am just dirt, an empty vessel of flesh and bones. I need the strength that lies in His arms, I need the tenderness that resides in His eyes, I need the love that’s in His heart.
He is all I have.
And that, my Beloved, is why Easter is different this year.
All my love,
B
