Technically, Good Friday was yesterday. It’s late. This week we found out that a one of my cousins passed away, very, very unexpectedly. And now it has me thinking.
I remember so much the day that my brother died. I remember the feeling that I had. The fear. God, I remember the fear. Fear of the unknown. I didn’t know it then, but looking back I know that it was fear of not knowing. What will tomorrow bring? What will Christmas be like? What is the rest of my life going to look like now?
Today, I can’t help but think back to the Friday that Jesus was killed. After he was taken down, after he was wrapped and His body placed in the tomb. After everyone went home and settled down for the night. Did people lie down in bed and cry? Was that unknown fear settling in? Did Mary lie in bed and cry like my mom did when my brother died? Did the family gather around and talk about Him? Laugh when they recalled, “That One Time” stories.
Did they go to bed wondering what tomorrow would be like?
There is something that makes Jesus’ story so much different than mine. Or my cousins. There was a plan with Jesus’ death. Jesus was to rise three days after his death. Did his followers, family and friends realize that they would once again see Him? Instead of mourning, did they rejoice that he wasn’t gone for good?
Update: The Easter sermon at a church that I’ve just started attending answered a lot of questions for me on this subject. You can check it out here.
Why do these thoughts go through my head so late at night? I think that’s why I started this new blog. My other’s purpose was to update friends and family while I was gone. This one.. is more for me. A place to write my thoughts. I tried to keep them in my notes app… but somehow they got deleted. So here I am. I don’t even think I’m going to tell anyone about this.
This one is just for me.