Sorry about the break.
Fast forward: We get to the lake and set up all of our chairs and get invited to eat breakfast with a Guatemalan church that had been at the lake since 6 that morning (they didn’t leave until almost 8 o’clock that evening!) After trying some new foods and having some conversations, we found out that they pride themselves on a legacy of having Easter services that way for 16 years! (So much for our idea being unique!)
I’m dressed in a t-shirt and basketball shorts at this time, so I walk a block and a half back up the street to our house realizing that the clouds don’t seem to have any intention getting better and that the day feels suddenly lonely, like the weight of a lifetime of mistakes fell from the sky and suddenly trapped me in its center. Still, all I could do was walk, so I kept on going step by step all the way back to the house. As I showered, my mood sunk even more and I somehow felt like I was going to screw the day up just from being around everyone else. After I changed, I went and sat on my bed for a few minutes, and as I searched myself, I realized what the feeling was, it was regret. Even now, I can’t tell you where it came from or why I had it, but simply sitting and letting it overtake me for a minute gave me some sort of strength. I looked at my phone and saw that we were getting close to go-time, so I finally stood, grabbed my bag, and went on my way.
Today, a day about resurrection and life, felt like something in me had suddenly decided to die. I didn’t even think to pray but as I took in the relative silence of my neighborhood; I started to see small glimpses of glory in blossoms springing to life in nearby trees and bushes, blue peeking through the clouds in the sky, and small birds serenading the empty spring air. I saw the resurrection occur right before my eyes and remembered how Mary Magdalene, overcome by a similar mental fog, snapped quickly into reality:
11 Mary was standing outside the tomb crying, and as she wept, she stooped and looked in. 12 She saw two white-robed angels, one sitting at the head and the other at the foot of the place where the body of Jesus had been lying. 13 “Dear woman, why are you crying?” the angels asked her.
“Because they have taken away my Lord,” she replied, “and I don’t know where they have put him.”
She thought he was the gardener. “Sir,” she said, “if you have taken him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will go and get him.”
She turned to him and cried out, “Rabboni!” (which is Hebrew for “Teacher”).
Just like Mary in the fog of death that Easter morning, I walked with my vision clouded by sorrow. Just like Mary, Jesus was there with me the entire time. And just like Mary, I just needed Him to open my eyes.
For the second time that day, I experienced both the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
(Part 3 coming soon!)