Risen

Well, I've been gone for quite a while. The last six weeks was a planned absence for Lent. Before that, I either couldn't be bothered, had nothing to say or just didn't want to tell you what was on my mind.

But I'm back now. In the afternoon, because this morning I forgot. And I don't really know what to write...

It's funny how, when you get out of the habit of something, it becomes so much harder when you want to start it up again. Like writing inspiring blog posts. I can't seem to remember how to do it. Perhaps a little chocolate bunny would help...




The little chocolate bunny was very willing to help. He was coming up with useful suggestions left, right and centre. But unfortunately I didn't get a chance to listen to many of them because I ATE HIM.

The bunny is gone. He was there, all beautiful and shiny, but now he is no more. All that's left is some crumpled gold paper and a little bell. He was trying to talk to me, trying to help me. He would have been my friend, if I'd let him. But instead I broke him into pieces. I destroyed him. I enjoyed it at the time, but now I wonder if I made a mistake. What if he had something important to say?

NEWSFLASH: It's not about the bunny.

Two thousand years ago, one Friday night, the people of Jerusalem were in a similar position. Jesus had been among them, speaking to them. He had given them advice, revolutionary ideas, on how to live a better life. Some of them had wanted to listen. Some of them realised, even then, that this man had something on offer that was worth hearing about.

But the people in power didn't agree. A common man teaching in the temple, bringing new wisdom and making them look like fools. It just wouldn't do. So they made a plot and found a way to shut him up. They arrested him, mocked him, beat him and hung him from a tree. They put an end to him and his nonsense.

A few among them must have doubted, when the sky darkened and the earth shook, whether they had done the right thing after all. What if they should have listened to him? But it was too late for that now.

His followers were devastated, that Friday night. They had put their hopes in Jesus, who they thought was their Messiah. But how could he save them if he was dead?
They retreated to their homes, locked their doors. He had promised them life, but now he was gone.

When things don't go the way we wanted, it's hard not to question ourselves. Sometimes we wonder if it's worth hoping at all. We can fall so far down into the depths that we aren't sure if we will ever get out.

But I still haven't finished my story. Because on the third day, the Sunday morning, the world changed. Jesus, the one the leaders had disposed of, the one the disciples thought they had lost forever, rose again. He fulfilled all their hopes, and more.

When Jesus came to this earth, he was not gold and shiny like my bunny. He did not have TV commercials telling everyone how unique and special and 'hand-crafted' he was. He looked and lived like an ordinary man. But, also unlike my bunny, he could not be destroyed.

So when I am down, when I can't see a way through my problems, when I don't know how I could ever get out of this mess, I turn to my Saviour. He is my hope. 
For in this I am certain:

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

He has risen, and so will I.