Easter normally celebrates life, but this Easter I got a beautiful view of death.
The reality of death came in the form of a frail, 40-year-old woman fighting an ongoing losing battle with AIDS. I looked at death when I saw her bones protruding from her body like broken tree branches. I felt death when I rubbed my hands on her decaying, flaking skin.
Most Saturdays in Jamaica are spent as adventure days, but this Saturday was different. We spent the day taking care of this lovely woman. Our main goal of the day was to do whatever she needed to make her more comfortable.
Before leaving for the day Mary called for me to get a good mental picture of the wounds one more time. Tracking the wounds would allow us to see if there was any progression or regression upon our next visit.
Her wounds were the outward expression of an inward breakdown.
“Chandler, come and see.”
Jesus has the same invitation. After Jesus was resurrected, he appeared to the disciples, but Thomas was not there. The other disciples told Thomas of what they had seen. His reply,
“Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:25
When reading this story, I see so much of myself in Thomas. There have been times that I do not believe what God is doing in or around me because I cannot see or touch it. The cool thing about Jesus is He didn’t leave Thomas to wallow in his doubt nor does He do that with me. He always finds a way to show me what He is doing. Jesus came to Thomas and said,
“Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” John 20:27.
Thomas had a personal encounter. His personal encounter with Jesus’ wounds dispelled every ounce of disbelief within Him.
Jesus’ death and resurrection is for our healing. The same wounds Thomas personally felt and saw are the wounds that heal us today from our deepest wounds. The wounds we hide. The wounds we pretend are not there. The wounds we still carry even after accepting Christ. Jesus’ wounds were for our wounds.
I have given people the power to influence what I think and believe about myself. I have given away big pieces of who I am. I have been wounded. We all have.
This woman has many physical wounds. She lays in her bed day-to-day waiting for the day her physical suffering may end. Despite her physical condition, her spirit is alive. She sings songs of her sins being washed away.
As my forever friend Cara always reminds me, “Jesus did not come to make bad men good.He came to make dead men alive.”
Looking death in the eye, I got a beautiful view of true life.
This is the first time in 22 years I have not attended church with Mom, Dad and Jordon. It is also the first time in 22 years I have woken up and there was not an Easter basket sitting out for me.
It’s a new season. It wasn’t a typical Easter weekend, but it has been my favorite. I felt unconditional love. I embraced this sweet woman with no fear of her disease. Instead of searching for Easter eggs with my cousins and brother, we searched for bedsores on this beautiful woman. Instead of running around the mall worrying about finding something to wear, we found new linen for this patient woman’s bed. Normally, I spend time with my friends and family. That… That still happened… Mary, Matt and I had a very life-giving experience our sister in Christ.
For those that do not believe in this #HeIsRisen stuff…Thomas didn’t either. He was a disciple that walked closely with the Lord. He didn’t believe until he had his own personal encounter. So the invitation is yours. Come and see.
pic are taking by the beautiful Mary Cox.
