We lost a baby at 10 weeks. Every Easter since our loss, over 4 years ago, I have found new meaning in the crucifixion, resurrection, and what it all means:
- Mary's anguish as she saw her son die. Her desperate longing for it not to have to be this way. Not my son! Please, please, not MY son!
- The disciples' grief as they begin to feel the void He left; their shock. He's really gone? But we loved him! He mattered to us!
- What a desolate Saturday that must've been, with Jesus dead and buried in the tomb. How can this be? Can it be real? Everything is different now.
- The women's panic as they found the tomb empty. He has been moved! Where is He now? Can He not even rest in peace? Where do we find Him? Where do we go to remember Him?
- Their tentative hope, as they begin to realize that maybe what the angel says is true. He's alive? He is risen? All is not lost?
Not my child! Please, please, not MY child! He's really gone? But we loved him! He mattered to us! How can it be? Can it be real? Everything is different now. Where is he now? Where do we go to remember him?
I look forward, with great hope, to the next resurrection, when I can say, "He's alive? He is risen? All is not lost?" because THEY said, "He's alive! He is Risen! All is not lost!"
It's not over yet...