I know Easter was a week and a half ago but it left a lingering impression, as it should. Over in my mind I hear the pastor saying, “The tomb is empty!”–a statement so simple yet so powerful. Maybe those four words are so great that we will never fully reach the depth of the story and the life behind them. I have tried to reflect on this and conjure up what it means to me. There is no rhyme or reason to my thoughts in the last week.
The Tomb is empty.
There is hope by faith in the resurrection of Christ. He is no longer in the tomb. We are forgiven. Without deliverance the sin of man might have forever hung on our hearts. Imagine what it would be like to carry the burden of your sin.
I have received plenty reassurance in the simple things, but most of the time they go unnoticed. These small gifts are an example of God’s grace and love for me. His grace came when he gave his son to die on the cross.
The Tomb is empty.
The sun rises every morning and sets at dawn. Today, I thought twice about the sun when warmth rippled through me as light peaked through a crack in the blinds.
Psalm 19:4-6
4 Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun, 5 which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course. 6 It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is hidden from its heat.
These verses clearly magnify the power of God. The sun…His creation that no one can escape. The sun means light. To me, light has always been the good of “light versus dark” in conjunction with “good versus evil”. It takes the credits in the saying… “There is light at the ends of the tunnel”.
The sun gives light but also the stars. This can only mean hope in darkness. A single star led three men to Jesus in his first days on earth. How special is the gift of a single star.
Genesis 1:16-19
16 God made two great lights-the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars. 17 God set them in the expanse of the sky to give light on the earth, 18 to govern the day and the night, and to separate light from darkness. And God saw that it was good. 19 And there was evening, and there was morning-the fourth day.
The Tomb is empty.
I can feel the Holy Spirit when I hear the noises of spring. The sounds of locust resonate in the flighty air. On the porch, at the Swiss House, I watch a grandmother teach her grandson to widdle sticks. He listens so intently to her words and his eyes are bright with curiosity. I love it. I am curious of this boy’s desire to know more about sticks. How can something as plain as a stick capture the ears of a child? If only I could listen that intently to my God, who birthed the tree, hence the stick.
Something as simple as listening has caught my attention. Listening began with the word of Christ. Someone dug deep into the heart of listening and left us with His legacy. Not only can one learn in listening but offer it as a gift to another. When you truly listen to others they get a sense of what it is like for God to listen to them.
The tomb is empty. What does this mean to you?
