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Without an "If"


I know that Easter has passed, but I can't seem to leave the resurrection chapters.

As the rest of us celebrated the risen Lord, I think it looked really different for those in the first century that day.

I never realized it before, but did you notice Mary going to the tomb with spices? Why? Because she wasn't going to celebrate a planned resurrection; she went to make the dead smell better.

And when John ran ahead of Peter, he didn't go inside to inspect the empty rags of the One who had always made him feel loved; he only went to the tomb because Mary begged him to follow her there.

And Thomas didn't believe until he saw with his eyes what he said would be necessary for the faith to rise.

They were the ones who said they believed while the Presence of God walked among them. He was the one who said he would die with Him. She was the one who wiped His feet with her tears and her hair just days before the cross.

Why would you come back for these? The Scripture says they didn't understand yet, but my heart wants to criticize the lack of faith in those who had God with them for more than 3 years.

And then, tucked inside this resurrection chapter, I see another "3". Just like Peter's denials and Pilate's I find no guilt in Him, Jesus repeats a phrase three times: Peace be with you.

Oh Jesus, why would you bring peace into a place of such faithlessness? Everything about You is always good, and everything about our hearts is only evil (just as Jeremiah said).

So why did Jesus enter in? I know the church answer: because there is no eternal life without His entering. But I know there's so much more (I know, that seemed strange to even type!) But think about it: Jesus had promised peace with no "if's". He had spoken to troubled hearts with the heaviest one of all as He said goodbye to the flesh upon flesh in a room of bread and wine. His leaving had to have brought such a depth of sadness to His heart as well as theirs. And though He knew that He would return with a peace they couldn't live without, He did it among such a lack of expectancy. The One who bled and hung, the One who suffered denials and betrayals, the One who loved to the end came back with peace to those who weren't waiting with Easter baskets filled with chocolate bunnies, or a spread of roast and potato salad on a decorated table. No one was really waiting for Jesus that day.

But He came back. And with His return, He offered no I can't believe you's or ridicules for the absence of joy.

Why would He do this?

Because Jesus loved them to the end, with no conditional "if" clause attached (John 13:1).

For all of the Mary's and Peter's, for all of the Thomas-doubters and John see-er's, the love of Jesus has not run its course. Your life is not an if to God, but a continuing story of His enduring love in the midst of the sometimes tears and the many times of weak faith.

I have to wonder what Jesus remembers about that day. What photographs does He shuffle through? Are there pictures of disgusted faces in heaven? Photos of the tears of doubt? I don't think so. I think Jesus pulls out the scenes that display all of our faces; the ones who brought the joy that was set before Him.

While the Easter decorations may have come down in our homes, the joy that brought our salvation and enduring peace is still being celebrated in heaven right now. Your face is on His refrigerator with no if attached to it. Just a magnet attached that reads: joy!

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About Me

I am a learner.  I have an insatiable desire to learn, so I read a ridiculous amount of books.  And, because I love to read, I process my thoughts through journal-writing. 

I guess this would also make me a writer.  

I think that a writer puts their time into something they want to read again, and hopefully invite someone else to read as well.  The words mean something to them, and they want those words to mean something to others, too.

I believe that readers and writers are also pretty good story-tellers, and there is nothing I love more than a good story.

Stories tell us the things we need to know, and not just the facts we seem to think define us.  I am more interested in someone who drives a 95 Astro van than someone who drives a new car with a personalized license plate, because I know there's a story behind it (and I love that I am married to the one who drives the van).

So I wrote a book called Tell Me a Story.  In it, you will find stories of people that most don't sit and listen to; maybe because they've never traveled out of the country in order to hear them.  Or maybe they've never really thought about the importance of just listening. 

I didn't listen because I thought I was special; I listened because I believed they were. 

I've taught high school Bible for more than 20 years, written curriculum for all of my classes, led mission trips around the world, taken lots of pictures, made lots of journal entries, and prayed every single day for the people whose faces appear in my heart.  Each blog post will take you to a story; some will be from my memory, some from my journal posts, some from people I'm around every day, and others will be from the best Story-teller I know, Who wrote a book long before I did.   His story keeps writing new stories in mine.  I hope someday to get mine published so that others will be encouraged to read more of His.

 

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