Saturday, 26 March 2016


I sit here, Saturday night - the night before - and wonder. Wonder how the disciples might have felt... 24 hours after their Jesus died. 24 hours after their leader left them. 24 hours after all hope was gone.

What did they feel? Disappointment? Embarrassment? Fear? Confusion?

It was all over.

All the excitement. All the build up. All the expectation and hope and joy.


Gone in an illegal trial, a brutal murder and a hurried burial.

Gone into a dark tomb, wrapped up in dead man's linen. A lifeless body, almost unrecognisable in its mangled, tortured form.

And as I sit here... a spark of hope ignites. Because I will never need to know how they felt... I will never need to wonder what went wrong... I will never need to despair in disappointment, drown in what-ifs or wonder where God is in the darkness...

Because I already know how the story ends...

Life... and hope... and joy... and wonderful, life-transforming, hope-filled glory.

Life. In Jesus.

Sunday's coming...

Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here... he has risen!
- Luke 24:5-6 -

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