We build up to it…we sacrifice and fast. 40 Days in the desert. We weep and mourn at the foot of the cross. 

We thirst. 

He thirsts. And then it is finished. 

And the world is changed forever by His sacrifice.

Three days later.

The sun rises. 

Then the Boulder is rolled away, and the tomb is left empty. 

The Son rises. 

Resurrection. Life. 

Glory! Alleluia! We are Alleluia people! 

This morning as I sat in the quiet of my house I thought about this time last year. This day last year.

A year ago, today, a celebration in heaven arose as my brother in law Robert left us, and entered into eternity. 

A year later…I still can’t believe he is not here. 

Because he should be. We. Miss. Him. 

I sat in the silence this morning and I thought about that Easter morning when Mary Magdalene saw him the first time, her Jesus. And realized it was Him. 

The shock- the absolute awe- the possible fear- and excitement all rolled into Alleluia. 

My God…he is Alive! 

It was so hard for me as my mind bounced back and forth between the joy of what today means and what today symbolizes in so many ways for our family. 

I have been blessed with some of the most amazing friends, whose walk has included, being widows too early. They have talked often to me about getting through “the firsts”. But from knowing and loving them, the seconds and thirds aren’t easier. Just a different sort of hard. And some days the grief is absolutely piercing. It still comes and goes. And it’s there. 

You get through the day, but life is never the same. 

There is a huge big hole that blows grief and love in and out of your heart. It pumps through your veins and that loss is always a part of you. It doesn’t define you…but it’s there. 

The heart heals, but the hole doesn’t go away. 

And then I think about the disciples, and the women, who knelt at the cross. Or maybe hid in the shadows. The persecution of anyone who would love this Jesus, is often overlooked as we focus on the passion. But it was there.

And then he was risen. 

And we know it is good. 

But I can’t even begin to comprehend the whirling of emotions radiating from his people. Would they need to go into hiding? Would He stay long?  All while the elation of the Alleluia came and pumped through their veins. 

He’s Alive. He’s Alive! 

He was there. 

On the road to Emmaus…they didn’t even recognize him until he broke bread. 

Thomas placed his hands in the holes of his side and his palms…”My Lord, and My God.”  

My joy in my Lord is great today. My joy in my faith in a God, who has allowed me to be broken and brought me to a wholeness I never even imagined possible. 

My Lord. And My God.

And my sorrow is great today. Sadness that things will never be the same again. There is a hole in our hearts and our family. The best of us has been gone a year. But he is always a part of things. I see the beautiful love Susan carries everywhere with her, his compassion that he passed on that Mikaela gives to everyone, and the quiet strength of Casey who more and more reminds me of his Dad. Through the holes left they are also filled with faith. They believe and know God. And my heart hurts for them everyday. 


But their strength together speaks volumes. 

And grief stays. And comes and goes when it wants. The hole remains.

So this morning in the quiet I sat. 

And I prayed. And I thought. 

What I know…God is good. So good. 

God redeems and heals, and he is our Alleluia. He is worthy of our praise, because he came and died and rose for US!!! There will always be cause for the greatest most earth shaking celebration as the light streams into the empty tomb…He is Alive!!! Our God LIVES! 

What I also know…last year there was great rejoicing in heaven when the kindest most good hearted person I’ve ever known entered heaven. I can only imagine the rejoicing as his sister ran to him and his other family, friends, and Grandpa Casey welcomed him into eternity. I know that there was such great rejoicing as my daughter ran to him- because I know she was so happy to meet him. So happy. 

I know that our Jesus must’ve been so happy to hold him in his arms, and tell him “you fought so hard, you suffered, and you lived a beautiful life. My good and faithful servant.”

I know this in my heart…in the silence…in my prayers. I know this. 

My Jesus Lives. 

He’s Alive. 

We are here. And we serve and pray, and live with holes. The holes don’t go away but someday we will all be whole again. 

Someday the grief will be filled with rejoicing. 

My God lives.

I know Him. He’s Alive. 

And our Alleluia lets us know that someday we can be whole…

Someday we can see Him, hold him, and Rejoice.

Someday I can hold those I love in heaven…someday our family will be whole again. Someday I’ll see my daughter run to me. 

Someday I will be held by my Savior. 

For Eternity. 

I am so thankful for that promise, and that hope I hold today…in what We believe. In what We know. 

Happy Easter. Much love to you…holes and all.