Walking out into the streets lately, you may have noticed it’s quieter than usual. There’s a lack of people, a lack of cars honking, you could even say a lack of community. There’s an increase in fear, an increase in mourning, and we continue to feel isolated; we continue to feel alone.
Then, it hit me really simply: Wasn’t the tomb empty right before the greatest miracle of all happened? Weren’t the streets quiet, the people mourning, right before He rose from the grave? People were running around frantically in fear over the mere fact of Jesus being crucified. I can only image they felt a sense of isolation as the one who had come to save them had just left. There was three whole days of these feelings, these unbearable emotions.
But, as you and I both now the end to this story, on the third He rose from the grave. The silence was broken, the mourning turned into joy, and the church rose up creating a community of believers unlike anything history has seen before.
I mention these things, because I can only imagine there are people out there who have felt the same hurt I have. Our jobs have been taken, our plans have been altered, and our hearts are aching to get out of our houses.
You can’t cancel Easter. Just because there aren’t physical services you can’t cancel out how our Savior died on the cross for our sins. You can’t negate the pain, embarrassment, and trauma he endured for us.
And you especially can’t negate how people are still getting saved in their very own homes.
Whether you’re sitting with your parents, your kids, or your husband or wife. Whether you’re sitting alone in your house feeling anxiety and depression enveloping every piece of who you are; He sees you. He desires you.
Even in a world filled with fear in the midst of this pandemic, He is alive and seeking you. He’s asking you to hold onto him instead of the fear, instead of the uncertainty. Have you ever wondered if in the middle of all of this chaos, He’s sitting here with you?
I think for a lot of us this is one of the first opportunities in months, maybe years where we have been forced to sit. The ability to work ourselves thin has been removed from our clenched fists, how we used sports and Netflix to avoid the pain that’s been suppressed for far too long.
Everything has been canceled and I think God is looking, holding out His hand to you saying “Choose me.”
In Mathew 28:1 it says “After the Sabbath, at dawn on the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to look at the tomb.” I couldn’t help but sit on the phrase after the sabbath. During the three days after Christ died, there was a Sabbath squeezed in there. Sabbaths are there to focus your whole being on worship and prayer; to spend the day with your Father.
I don’t think it was a coincidence there was a Sabbath before He rose from the dead. I can only imagine, even though they thought Jesus was dead, they still spent the day praying and worshipping. They were confused, hurt, full of anxiety, but they still participated in Sabbath. They still focused every ounce they had, even if it was painful, on Him.
Right now, we have all the time in the world. In the middle of this grief we can still spend Sabbath with Him. He can and will take our worry away, just like He did for Mary.
Instead of trying to find one more Netflix movie to watch, taking one more nap, or spending endless hours on your phone, what would it look like if you spent just 10 minutes with God today? What would it look like if during this pandemic, instead of turning on the news that continues to instill more worry in your heart, you sit with Papa and ask Him how he is working in the midst of this fear?
I promise He will answer. He will show Himself to you, but only if you unlock the door inside the house you’ve built in your heart. The front door you may have thrown the key away to.
The beauty of Easter, the beauty of Christ is He did all of these things so we could live freely. He wants us to choose, He wants to be desired by us. He can’t open a locked door from the outside, you have to be willing to let Him in.
I’m sitting here on my couch, watching Easter service from home today. Every part of the service was powerful. But, one big thing stuck out to me. 936 people have come to Christ in the past 2 weeks. God is moving even from people sitting in their homes. He’s reaching the people who would normally be going to the bars to drink, but instead they are sitting at home wondering what to do so they turn on the tv Sunday morning. They turn it on to watch church.
People who are afraid to step foot into a church because of past hurts and fears are finally watching live services each week from the comfort of their couch. God is reaching every single person who has never been to church because we are all looking for something to hold onto. Something to be our firm foundation because the world no longer is offering us a constant relief.
The foundations of our society have finally cracked and underneath is God waiting to catch you.
Everything we have overlooked in our society can no longer be ignored. The Holy Spirit fire can never be distinguished and now our world is experiencing what that means.
I sit here on my couch after watching service and every ounce of my being is on fire. Tears are rushing down my face, not because I am afraid of what’s happening or what’s to come. They’re running down my cheeks because I see God in every single place in the world right now.
Healthcare workers, small businesses, stay at home moms or dads, married or single individuals, third world countries; in you’re own home.
He is alive.
I’m crying because with every part of my being I want you to fully reach out and grab onto the promises of God. I want you to grab His hand like a child eager to go spend the day with their Father; and never let go.
I don’t think it is any coincidence Easter is occurring during the middle of this pandemic. In 3 days Mary and all of His disciples experienced putting your faith into one thing and loosing it all. They experienced pain, sorrow, fear. Then on the third day, a miracle occurred and Jesus reminded them their faith was not blind.
Remember this Easter you don’t have blind faith.
He is alive.
