Joni Eareckson Tada: Sharing Hope

Shauna: This is Shauna on Joni Eareckson Tada: Sharing Hope. And here’s an after-thought about Easter from Joni.

Joni Eareckson Tada: It’s one of those thoughts that’s been lingering since last week because one of the most poignant parts of the Easter story for me is that moment in the garden when Mary Magdalene, overwhelmed with grief, thinks all is lost. Jesus is dead; now they’ve stolen His body. Everything looks hopeless.

Well, not quite. Because there is that marvelous moment when, through her tears, she encounters Jesus in the garden. I’ve pictured that scene time and time again because it speaks to anyone who is full of grief, anyone who thinks all is hopeless, all is lost. But then, through our blurry eyes, we see Jesus. We recognize Him through our ears. Although they are ringing with pain, we hear the voice of Jesus. It is a moment of revelation.

And it’s why I want to read to you today this little passage from Ken Geyer’s book, Intimate Moments with the Savior. It pictures Mary Magdalene when she sees the empty tomb and then sees Jesus. You tell me if this doesn’t speak to you as Mary Magdalene, stunned with disappointment to see the empty tomb, as she says:

"Dear risen Lord, how hard it is to see clearly when devastating circumstances fill my eyes with tears. How blurry everything gets. Even You get blurry, and the sound of Your voice becomes unfamiliar. Help me to blink away those tears to see that You are standing beside me, wanting to know why I am crying, wanting to know where it hurts, wanting to wipe away every tear from my eyes.

Thank You, Jesus, for being there, for never leaving me or forsaking me, even in the darkest and chilliest hours of my life. From those circumstances that have shrouded my heart and entombed me, I pray that You would roll away the stone. It is so heavy. It is too heavy, and I am too weak to roll it away myself.

Where there is doubt, roll away the stone and resurrect my faith. Where there is depression, cast aside the grave clothes and release my joy. Where there is despair, chase away the night and bring a sunrise to my hope. In my doubt, in my depression, and in my despair, help me to continue to love You, even if I do not understand how You are working in my life.

I rejoice that no matter how dark the Friday or how cold the tomb, with You as my risen Savior, there is always the warm hope of an Easter morning."

Wow. I want to thank Ken Geyer for writing this beautiful essay. It touched me so deeply last week when I read it because, at times, it is so hard to see Jesus when you’re hurting. You feel like Mary Magdalene, looking at Him and mistaking Him for the gardener or for somebody else.

She didn’t know who He was and almost did not recognize His voice. It is like that for me and maybe you, too, when you are focused inward. You see an empty tomb, you see your devastating circumstances, and you assume the worst. Like Mary Magdalene, you jump to conclusions and look at the glass half empty. Soldiers must have taken the body of Jesus away. It never crosses your mind that there could be a miracle, that from time immemorial, God planned the resurrection to give you hope and a happy future.

Shauna: Friend, no matter how hard your times are right now or how difficult, there's always the warm hope of Easter. There's always the hope of the resurrection, and that is something to take with you. So don't forget it as we continue to reflect on the resurrection of our wonderful Savior from this past week and into every week of this year. Hold onto that hope, friend, for Jesus is near.