Death and mourning. Sadness and despair.

It seemed the story was over. Christ had died and his body lay in a tomb. It was the end of an era as far as anyone could tell.

There was weeping, mourning, uncertainty, and confusion.

What next?

Mary Magdalene stood at the empty grave…certainly, there must be some explanation. Her heart gave way to tears, and she wept.

One of the most captivating statements I find in this resurrection account is the question the angels ask Mary as she is looking into the tomb…searching for answers.

“Woman, why are you crying?”

John 20:13

Good Friday calls us to pause, reflect, and contemplate the cost that Christ bore for our sins. Because we know there is a resurrection, we can so easily lose sight of the significance that mourning plays in the story.

This question, posed to Mary- “Woman, why are you crying?”- might have seemed silly or inappropriate in light of the crucifixion.

“They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.”

John 20:13

Distraught that something might have happened to the body of Jesus, Mary’s heart was wrestling with fear and grief. When she turned around, she stood face-to-face with Jesus…but she did not recognize him.

He, too, asked her why she was crying.

“Woman,” he said, “why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?”

John 20:15

She was looking for Jesus, who was standing right in front of her.

Carrying the sadness of Friday into Sunday, she could not see her Messiah. Resurrection had come, but she had yet to grasp it.

Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher).

John 20:15,16

In an instant, Mary’s eyes were opened…and she could see her Lord. Overwhelmed with emotion, she reached out for him…clinging to her living Savior.

The question, “Why are you crying?” makes sense now. Why would she, or anyone, cry in the presence of the greatest miracle in history? Death defeated. Resurrection. Redemption. Complete victory.

May the only tears we shed on Easter Sunday be tears of joy!

After this encounter with Jesus, Mary ran to the disciples to share this amazing news.

“I have seen the Lord.”

John 20:18

Can you imagine their reaction? “I have seen the Lord.” No more tears. No more sorrow. Jesus is alive.

While there continues to be much to grieve in this world…death, brokenness, heartache, and sorrow…Easter reminds us that victory has come…death has been defeated…and, through both Christ’s death and resurrection, there is a greater hope.

The empty tomb was not something to weep over.

The empty tomb was the reason to rejoice.

No more crying.

“I have seen the Lord.”

Christ has risen.

A crucifixion.

The events of Good Friday were filled with a kind of drama that we cannot fully comprehend. It was ugly. The worst of human nature spilled out into every street and every corner of the city. Jealousy and envy had blossomed into hate, and hate burned hot. All of life, nature, and the whole world collided with goodness, mercy, and love, and everything stood still.

He was despised and rejected by mankind,
a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.
Like one from whom people hide their faces
he was despised, and we held him in low esteem.

Isaiah 53:3

Despised and rejected.

The suffering he bore made him familiar with our own suffering and pain.

It was so hideous that we had to turn our faces away. This kind of suffering, we cannot truly grasp.

Surely he took up our pain
and bore our suffering,
yet we considered him punished by God,
stricken by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was on him,
and by his wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray,
each of us has turned to our own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.

Isaiah 53:4-6

Did he see my face as he hung on the cross? As he was pierced through and his body hung crushed, were my sins and my failures and my pride and my transgressions on his mind? Was he thinking about me as he took his last breath?

When the angel visited Mary and gave her the exciting news that she would conceive a baby through the Holy Spirit who would be God’s Son…the Messiah…and to her question, “How can this be?”…the angel’s reply was, “Nothing is impossible for God.” I do believe that Jesus, the Son of God – God in the flesh – could see the face of every human life – past, present, and future – as he hung dying for the forgiveness of all mankind. Because nothing is impossible for God.

His punishment…the horror of his death…brought you and me the peace we long for and the healing of every wound. Forgiveness, grace, restoration, and completeness became ours through Christ’s brutal death.

The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Thank you, Jesus, for the cross on which you died…where you saw my face and you bore my sin.

He was oppressed and afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth;
he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,
and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,
so he did not open his mouth. By oppression and judgment he was taken away.
Yet who of his generation protested?
For he was cut off from the land of the living;
for the transgression of my people he was punished.
He was assigned a grave with the wicked,
and with the rich in his death,
though he had done no violence,
nor was any deceit in his mouth.

Isaiah 53:7-9

Innocent, he walked the path of death.

Jesus, sinless and pure, took the grave of the wicked for the redemption of the world.

And he did so in silence…without a cry of “not guilty”…without a word of self-justification.

So many misunderstand the necessity of this part of the Easter story. They would rather bask in the resurrection than pause and reflect on the gravitas of the cross. Were it not for this poignant moment of mourning, we could not truly rejoice in the victory three days later.

Death was not the finale of this story, but it cannot be brushed over. God allowed his Son to suffer…and his Son, Jesus, chose the way of suffering. God so loved the world that He gave…and Jesus so loved the world that He gave.

Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,
and though the Lord makes his life an offering for sin,
he will see his offspring and prolong his days,
and the will of the Lord will prosper in his hand.
After he has suffered,
he will see the light of life and be satisfied;
by his knowledge, my righteous servant will justify many,
and he will bear their iniquities.
Therefore I will give him a portion among the great,
and he will divide the spoils with the strong,
because he poured out his life unto death,
and was numbered with the transgressors.
For he bore the sin of many,
and made intercession for the transgressors.

Isaiah 53:10-12

He made intercession for the transgressors.

Those transgressors are you and me. Those transgressors are any human that has ever lived, is currently living, and will live in the future. Jesus made intercession for us all.

Because Christ poured out his life unto death, and because he continues to intercede on our behalf, we have hope…we have redemption.

Good Friday is not just another date on the calendar to fill with another service, another gathering, or another ritual to observe. No. It is a sobering moment to pause and reflect on the suffering of Christ on behalf of you and me.

I do believe that He saw my face and yours as he hung, dying, broken, abandoned, and alone.

And when he said, “It is finished.” (John 19:30), he was declaring the end of striving…the end of fear…the end of hopelessness…the end of shame, and the end of death. He took our iniquity and he bore our sin…once…for all…upon the cross.

Words do not suffice for the enormity of gratitude I feel. But with words, frail and broken…limited and simple…I say to Jesus from the depths of this sinful heart, “Thank you, Jesus.”

“It seemed as if hell were put into His cup; He seized it, and at one tremendous draught of love, He drank damnation dry.”
Charles Spurgeon

Maundy Thursday is the day the church recognizes and observes the Last Supper of Jesus.

Defined as “the ceremony of washing the feet of the poor, esp. commemorating Jesus’ washing of His disciples’ feet on Maundy Thursday” by the Collins English Dictionary, Maundy Thursday calls our attention to those final moments between Christ and his disciples before his death and resurrection.

Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with a towel that was wrapped around him.

John 13:3-5

If we believe we can carry the mantles of leadership and shepherd without walking through the acts of sacrificial service and suffering like our Lord, then we are deceiving ourselves. Christ, throughout his entire earthly ministry, spoke clearly and modeled humbly the expectation for those who chose to be called disciples. The true significance of Passion Week was not Christ’s triumphant entry and the cheers of “Hosannah” as he rode into Jerusalem nor was it in the dramatic display of Christ’s authority as he drove out the money changers from the Temple. Rather, the significance of this week was in the quiet and humble declaration that Christ was King and that all the hierarchy and position that was hoped for and expected were not the markers of his power and authority. It was found in the act of washing his disciples’ feet.

When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord’, and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.”

John 13:12-15

In Luke’s account of the Last Supper with Jesus, he includes an additional story that took place during this pivotal moment in history. Having shared with these men that one of them would betray him, the disciples began to murmur and discuss which of them would do such a thing. This conversation led to an argument about who would be considered the greatest. Jesus stopped them in their tracks with this statement:

“The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them, and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. But you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.”

Luke 22:24-27

This was not the first time Jesus addressed this seemingly difficult-to-grasp concept with the disciples. In their humanness, the question of greatness came up often, as it does so today. We are sin-driven people. We hunger for power. We yearn for a seat at the table. And Jesus addressed this hunger for position over and over again. And we, now 2,000 years later, witness Christ’s example and hear his words of gentle conviction. It is not about having a seat at the table; it is about a heart humble to service.

“Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things you will be blessed if you do them.”

John 13:15-17

The blessing we yearn for comes not from elevating ourselves to places and platforms of greatness. Those often look like blessings from a distance. The crowds the lights, and the influence can draw our affection towards a counterfeit kind of blessing. But from Christ’s own words, and by his authority, true blessing comes from laying down our lives, our pride, and our status, wrapping a towel around our waist and washing the feet – serving in unseen and unglorified ways – of those in our home, our marriage, our family, our workplace or ministry.

Jesus told the disciples to follow Him. The heart will constantly tug towards greatness defined by the world, but Jesus said, “Do as I have done for you.” His standard is high. It takes far more strength, maturity, and character to lower ourselves in a Christlike way than it does to climb our way up the ladder.

On Maundy Thursday, as we enter into this time of reflection and remembering, let us recall the moment we said yes to Jesus…the moment we chose to identify ourselves with Christ…when we surrendered to the One who stooped down to live among humanity, the One who knelt down to wash the dirty feet of his disciples, and the One who reaches down into our hearts and draws us to himself.

He made himself low for us.

And our act of gratitude is to do the same for others.

If we truly believe that Christ is the greatest…that he is our Teacher and Lord, then why would we seek any other form of greatness? To align with Christ is to align with serving and suffering. His grace compels us to act in love and sacrifice. His love compels us to serve.

“The strange thing is that it is the man who stoops like that–like Christ–whom men in the end honour as a king, and the memory of whom they will not willingly let die.”

William Barclay

He didn’t defend himself.

He didn’t try to justify his cause or prove his innocence.

He stood there…silent…like a lamb to the slaughter.

When offered the opportunity to speak into the situation and right the wrongs…clarify his position…he chose to stand in quiet strength.

Pilate, so arrogant in his authoritative role…his title…believed that he held the power of life and death in his hands:

“When Pilate heard this, he was even more afraid, and he went back inside the palace. ‘Where do you come from?’ he asked Jesus, but Jesus gave him no answer. ‘Do you refuse to speak to me?’ Pilate said. ‘Don’t you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you?’” John 19:8-10

Jesus’ response spoke of who had, and continues to have, the true authority:

“Jesus answered, ‘You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above.’” John 19:11

Think about that.

Facing his accusers…standing before one who held human power and authority, Jesus did not surrender his identity. He stood firm in his position and made it clear that the only power Pilate had was given to him by God, and at any moment God could take it away. This statement solidified God’s control overall.

“He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”  Isaiah 53:7

By whose authority do you stand?

In what situation do you find yourself in that demands a statement…some sort of justification or defense?

Have you been accused?

Are you shackled with a heavy and unjust weight?

Are your circumstances beyond what you can bear? Are you weary, worn, pushed to your limit?

In whose hands are you resting?

Who holds the power over life (freedom) and death (captivity) in your situation?

When Jesus responded by saying, “You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above”, it wasn’t just a statement directed to Pilate regarding this particular moment in time. It was a declaration that nothing – not one single thing – that happens in this life has power outside of God’s authority.

What this tells me is that whatever circumstances we find ourselves in that cause our hearts to faint and our souls to cry for help, we can stand in assurance and confidence that God stands with us and for us and has the final say.

No earthly vessel has power over us…God’s power determines time, the duration, and the outcome. No sickness, no false accusation, no affliction or loss is outside of God’s sovereignty. He reigns over everything.

He is King over sickness.

He is Lord over every false accusation.

He is Mighty over each sting of affliction and devastating loss.

The silence of Christ…his weary body beaten in humility…seemed to declare nothing of victory…nothing of Lordship.

When it seemed that darkness had won…that death had conquered…Christ’s humble response declaring God’s power and authority was, and remains, the hope that we cling to.

Good Friday was not the end.

Christ standing before Pilate…the angry crowds crying out for his death…the beating and the insults…the cross…his death.

It was not the end.

This is not the end.

Your unimaginable situation…the heaviness you bear…is not the end.

While the world may appear to hold the power of life and death over you…

Remember…it is merely borrowed power.

Good Friday is not the end.

“After the suffering of his soul, he will see the light of life and be satisfied; by his knowledge my righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities. Therefore, I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors. For he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors.”

Isaiah 53:11,12

It is Holy Week.

I woke up this morning feeling heavy…weighted down.

A sorrow and grief that has been nagging at me seemed to surface in my heart before I even got out of bed.

I felt like God was so far away.

“Where are you, God?”

Have you felt that way before? Have you ever found yourself wondering and wandering in God’s silence?

The rain, pouring down heavy on our roof and drenching every nook and cranny of our city, seemed to echo the heaviness in my heart this morning.

For some odd reason, it seems to make me more attune to the solemnity of this Holy Week.

Surely He has borne our griefs
And carried our sorrows;
Yet we esteemed Him stricken,
Smitten by God, and afflicted.
But He was wounded for our transgressions,
He was bruised for our iniquities;
The chastisement for our peace was upon Him,
And by His stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
We have turned, every one, to his own way;
And the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.

Isaiah 53:4-6

Surely, He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…

Jesus…the weight of the cross…the splintering edge of the wood as it rested on his flesh…bore my grief…carried my sorrows.

He was bruised – crushed – for our iniquities.

I am trying to fathom the depth of such love. All my wrongdoings…my sins…the intentional and unintentional times I fail…for all of those, he was bruised.

Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise Him;
He has put Him to grief.

Isaiah 53:10

It pleased the Lord to bruise Him.

It pleased the Lord.

God did not spare his son.

He was not pleased to see his son suffer, but he was pleased knowing that, through Christ’s sacrifice, the world would know salvation and reconciliation with God.

What strikes me so profoundly is that the weariness I am feeling today…the weightiness of this grief…was carried by Christ as he walked to his death.

The sorrows that I feel…that we feel…were on his mind in every step and every harsh beating that he took.

And Jesus knows, and is acquainted with, the silence of God.

In the heaviness, there is comfort.

In the weariness, there is strength.

In the uncertainty and disappointment, there is hope.

In the grief, there is peace.

He knows our sorrows…he has already carried them.

He knows our pain…he has already felt it.

He knows right where we are…what we are facing…the challenges that are in our hands and the ones coming…he has gone before us.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abounds through Christ. Now if we are afflicted, it is for your consolation and salvation, which is effective for enduring the same sufferings which we also suffer. Or if we are comforted, it is for your consolation and salvation. And our hope for you is steadfast, because we know that as you are partakers of the sufferings, so also you will partake of the consolation.

2 Corinthians 1:3-7

Holy Week.

As I walk through this week…still keenly aware of the weariness of my heart…I walk in Christ’s comfort.

You, as well, may walk in the comfort of the One who was bruised for the very heartache you are feeling right now.

There is no suffering that Christ cannot console.

He has felt every wound and the sting of every pain…every disappointment and every hard and heavy step.

This week leads us to the greatest moment the world has ever known…the hope we have…the reason for our very being.

Redemption…salvation…hope and renewal.

Holy Week reminds us to keep our eyes looking upward…to keep our hearts turned towards him…the One who was bruised for us.

]]> http://amyeslater.com/?feed=rss2&p=4971 0 http://amyeslater.com/?p=3975 http://amyeslater.com/?p=3975#comments Fri, 07 Sep 2018 13:21:37 +0000 Amy http://amyeslater.com/?p=3975

Picture Credit: Kolleen Gladden, Upsplash

“And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” Hebrews 12:2-3

We would be gravely mistaken if we believed that Jesus went twirling and dancing his way to the cross; that somehow, because he was God, he was able to muster up a supernatural “can-do” attitude and walk the path to his death with a great big smile on his face. It is an absurd thought, I know. And when we read the horrifying details of Christ’s crucifixion, we ought to be quickly convicted of just how much he suffered, how heavy the weight of our sins bore down upon him, and how willingly and intentionally he pressed on through this sorrow. The suffering was very real. And Jesus never once pretended that everything was “a-okay”or blurted out ,”I can do all things…”. No. The story of the cross is ugly, terrifying, humbling, overwhelming, and shameful.

So why, then, when we are going through dark seasons and walking down painful paths, do we oftentimes try so hard to flash that million dollar smile with a peppy ’skip-to-my-loo-my-darlin’? Why do we think the phrase, “the joy of the Lord is my strength”, means we aren’t allowed to show any sign of human emotion besides happiness? Are we afraid of looking weak? Are we afraid that to truly unveil our deep hurts, and our lack of pep going through them, will somehow make us less valuable to others? Less wanted? Less popular?

I have found myself hunkered down in the book of Hebrews for quite some time. I just can’t seem to pull myself away. Each time I read it I am challenged and convicted in a whole new way. Lately I have been contemplating the first few verses in chapter 12.

“…let us run with perseverance…”

Jackson, my eleven-year-old son, is doing cross-country this year. He has always been a good runner, when he puts his mind to it, and has the potential of doing very well in long-distance running. Currently, as he has been in training for less than a month, he is learning that increasing distance and speed takes a bucket load of endurance. And the only way to build endurance is through consistent training and perseverance. He has all the potential in the world, but in order to tap into that potential, he needs to get beyond the pain which demands perseverance.

Perseverance is hard.

The definition of perseverance is: steadfastness in doing something despite difficulty or delay in achieving success. (Webster’s Dictionary).

The race that Hebrews is talking about, and the one in which perseverance is required, is our lifelong walk of faith in the midst of all the mess, dysfunction, suffering, challenges, loss, and difficulties that life brings our way. This sinful world will bring painful and sorrowful consequences, even to the most faithful and persevering.

Yet, we are encouraged to keep running.

And to run with perseverance.

The race will not be easy, and it will afford us more challenges and painful twists and turns than we think we can handle, but the finish line is coming. We must endure.

This part of the passage I understand. I don’t love the thought that life is going to be hard and will demand such patience and endurance, but I get it. I can accept it.

But, and perhaps you can relate to this, I often wonder, “how does a persevering believer ‘count it all joy’ as our faith is tested and we charge on to victory? How do we do this? How do we honor God and also be honest with our very human emotions?” The answer if found further on in the passage:

“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus…”

The finish line of victory is Jesus.

This race we run is not the end. It is not our forever. There is an eternity waiting for us just beyond the yellow tape at the end of the track.

It is often easy to get distracted during a race. I remember my dad hammering a few words of wisdom into me years ago when I had to run the mile race at our school’s Sports Day: 1. Don’t look back, it will slow you down, and 2. Keep a steady pace until the very end, and then run as fast as your feet will carry you.

The tests that come our way, whether in the form of an illness, job termination, rebellious child, unmet expectations, or the loss of a dream, are all forms of distraction that can make us want to do a quick turn of our neck to see what is coming up behind us. How far ahead are we? Are we going to make it? Will this sorrow overtake us?

Hebrews reminds us to keep our gaze locked on the One who will see us through every trial and painful step. Jesus is our goal. He is the beginning and the end of our faith. If we want to persevere and not buckle under the weight of our circumstances, then we must fix our eyes, our attentions, and our motivations on him. He is the finish line.

But not only that, Jesus is also our example.

How do I walk through this with authenticity and real joy?

Walk as Jesus did when he walked his final steps to the cross. In his book, The Incomparable Christ, J. Oswald Sanders wrote,

“The Son of God approaches the sorrows of Gethsemane, the shame of Gabbatha, and the sufferings of Golgotha with a song on his lips. Anyone can sing in the sunshine, but to sing in the shadows is a rare accomplishment.”

Praise was Christ’s Plan A for enduring the cross.

“…who for the joy set before him endured the cross…”

The joy that Christ anticipated was not the painful cross, but it was the resurrection afterward that awaited him, the victorious sitting at the right hand of his Father that encouraged him and comforted him as he faced the most devastating of circumstances.

It was customary at the Passover to sing the Hallel, a collection of Psalms that had once been one continuous song, but is now divided into separate psalms (113-118). “Hallel” actually means “to praise.”

During the final meal that Jesus shared with his disciples and before his suffering, Christ chose to sing praise.

A lifestyle of praise, I truly believe, is the solid foundation by which we can walk through the valley of the shadow of death and fear no evil. Praise keeps our hearts and our eyes focused on Jesus. It doesn’t take the pain away, but it gives us the joy to keep pressing on.

When we look at the story of Christ’s death, we see that he never put on a smily face of inauthentic joy. He never denied he was in pain. He felt the scorn of the whip and hate of the nails. He didn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. Yet, he walked steadfastly, and his joy was what awaited him on the other side. He suffered, but with praise in his heart.

“What can we learn from the Passover Song? That we can turn our trouble into treasure and our sorrow into song. Faith can sing her song in the darkest hour. Sorrow and singing are not incompatible.” The Incomparable Christ, J. Oswald Sanders

The joy walk is not the hokey pokey. My friends, when the race is getting long, and your legs are weary, and your arms are weak, it is okay to not be okay. You can still have joy and not be wearing a smile. You can still praise even though your heart is heavy. Brokenness in this life is a necessary part of keeping our eyes on Jesus. He gives us endurance. We don’t have to try and muster it up on our own. He composes the song we sing.

The joy walk is one of perseverance. We run steady when our gaze is fixed on Jesus.

If you feel like crying, then go ahead and cry.

If you need help, then go ahead and ask for it.

And when you feel like you are ready to give up…

“Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.”

As we run each lap and face each trial, remember the One who ran before us, and who is running with us now.

]]> http://amyeslater.com/?feed=rss2&p=3975 0 http://amyeslater.com/?p=3557 http://amyeslater.com/?p=3557#comments Fri, 30 Mar 2018 14:33:11 +0000 Amy http://amyeslater.com/?p=3557

“And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” Colossians 2:15

That phrase, “triumphing over them” means “a general’s triumph who returns victorious”. (Matthew Henry’s Commentary) Think about that. Christ’s death on the cross stripped the enemy of all power and control. No longer are we captive to the struggles and trials of this world. We walk in the same triumphant procession that Christ walked in through his resurrection. On the other side of the cross we stand redeemed and victorious.

There is healing on the other side.

There is redemption on the other side.

There is joy on the the other side.

There is freedom on the other side.

There is laughter on the other side.

There is hope on the other side.

There is forgiveness on the other side.

There is dancing on the other side.

There is remembrance on the other side.

There is fullness on the other side.

There is the promise of more on the other side.

There is blessing on the other side.

On the other side of our brokenness…on the other side of our grief…on the other side of all the letting go and hard goodbyes…

…there is Jesus.

On the other side of the cross we have victory.

On the other side of pain we are triumphant.

On the other side of death there is the resurrection.

Jesus will never leave us nor forsake us.

And he will see us through to the other side.