Our house is quiet, as I sit and watch the Robins run across my back fence in the rain. The gray mist that covers our neighbourhood is indicative of my mood. I have just spent wonderful, uninterrupted time in my bible and yet I am pensive, agitated and restless. As the steam from my fair trade coffee rises in the air, I am realizing that I am not sure I have a full understanding of what it must have been like for the disciples and His followers the day after they watched Jesus crucified on the cross. Can I ever really understand the hopelessness, confusion, and utter loss that they must have felt as I stand here on this side of the cross? Maybe I need more days like this. Days in which I see the world in light of His death. It is hard for me to imagine. What if His story ended at the cross? What if my world's reality ended with Christ's death. The harshness of that statement is difficult for me to fully comprehend and yet I know that for many today that is their reality. Many of those I love and admire, live day to day in the reality that Jesus Christ was a historical figure, who was a good teacher and whose life ended, period. My heart is heavy because I am not sure I can understand what life would be like if His story ended with his death. Our world is too broken, the grief is too much, the injustice so overwhelming that when I allow my mind to live in his death, life just seems like the weather today, cold, damp and endlessly gray.
For me, tomorrow can't arrive soon enough.