Can you imagine what they felt on this day? After the painstaking devastation their souls and eyes witnessed just hours before. I wonder, did they sleep? Could they close their eyes without reliving every heartbreaking detail. Could Mary even breathe?
Coming into this weekend, I felt the word HOPE rising within me. Felt the word HOPE stirring me to deep thought. Felt the word HOPE driving me to wonder. When they woke on this day, did they have an ounce of HOPE?
HOPE is wanting something to happen. Wanting something to be true. To expect with confidence. Can you have HOPE when all hope seems lost? When the very thing, the actuality of hope is ripped from you, can you still generate, muster or feel hope?
Amongst their abundant grief did they remember the words He spoke? Did their souls long for something to be true? Could they even fathom, after the tragedy witnessed, that the promises were not just lost on the wind? Would their heart allow them to cleave to the anchor of HOPE?
On this day where the sun still rose, where the birds still chirped, where others went about life as usual, could they look past what was and cling to the HOPE of what was to come? Could they set aside the deep, gut wrenching anguish and find a glimmer of HOPE?
In the pit of your deepest despair, can you remember the words that He spoke? Can the promises that He made be an anchor for your soul rather than a ship passing in the night?
“I will never leave you, or forsake you.”
“I will fight for you, you need only to be still.”
“He gives strength to the weary and power to the weak.”
“Do not fear, for I am with you.”
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you…”
“But those who HOPE in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.”
Choose to anchor.
For tomorrow is coming.