Why

It was early. They walked quickly, in hushed tones. It was cool, having rained overnight. Everything was so rushed on the Preparation day, there wasn't time to properly anoint the body. The women all agreed to meet early the morning after the Sabbath, in order to anoint His body; as was fitting. They wondered aloud if the soldiers would help them with the heavy stone.

Passover was usually a time of rememberance but also of celebration. This time, however, there was no celebration. FOr the first time in their lives, all ritual seemed hollow. Afterall, their Deliverer was dead. For three years, they'd followed this man - the One. All they'd hoped for - gone - in one horrible afternoon. Why, Lord, why?

Mary Magdalene worried a little about how quiet it seemed - her experience with Romans was that they were loud - all the time. And yet, as they approached the tomb she did not hear anything - no voices, no heavy steps - just the quiet of the garden.

Then they saw it. The tomb was open. The guards were gone. What had happened? Surely no-one would have taken the Lord's body. Why, then was the stone rolled away? Why would the Roman soldiers have unsealed the tomb? Why?

Frightened, they ran to the tomb, but found nothing. Bewildered, they ran outside and were met by two men. How brightly their robes shined! And their voices rang - it was terrible and beautiful, at the same time.

"Why do you seek the living among the dead," one of the men said, "He is risen! Go and tell the others."

They immediately rushed to tell Peter. "Why don't you believe us? We've seen it for ourselves!" Mary's heart was heavy - she told herself she believed these men - surely they were messengers, sent to give them the good news. Why, then, couldn't she rejoice with the others? Why wouldn't they believe her?

Peter immediately ran for the tomb - going to inspect the now shed graveclothes with bewilderment.

Mary knelt in the cool grass a long time, eyes closed, just listening and praying. When she looked up, she saw a man standing near her. Grief-stricken, she cried, "They've taken the Lord away and I don't know where."

"Mary," said the man. It was only then she realized the man standing before her was Jesus. Alive!

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Jesus had to die. God's perfection demands a sacrifice for sin. It is a death sentence. From the very first rebellion in the garden, God knew we could never be redeemed unless He intervened. From the beginning, to the very last pages of Scripture, we read of God's plan to redeem us through the death, burial and resurrection of His Son. Jesus had  to die; or we would never truly live.

That's why.

Gone

I can't imagine the stunned shock of the disciples. Even though they'd been told this was coming, how many of them really understood? And now, He was gone. They'd watched their friend and teacher - the Savior - beaten, mocked and, finally, crucified.  They watched, with finality, as the Roman soldiers sealed the tomb with an enormous rock.

Judas had betrayed him to the priests and, now, he was dead. Peter, the Rock, had denied him - three times. Not one of the 12 had come to his aid.

And now, they were in hiding. Afraid for their very lives. I imagine the room where they gathered was as silent as the very grave itself.

They had to be exhausted from their grief and terror. It wouldn't be until later they would be filled with courage. Today, all was uncertain.

Living in Crazyville

I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to think Crazyville isn't just some silly name I came up with when I was designing this blog. I'm pretty sure it's one of the more accurate labels I could put on our life.

Working in the school district, I get spring break off. During spring break, it became abundantly clear how desperately I'd been craving some downtime. We didn't go anywhere and just being home, with no games, meetings, appointments, dance classes, work functions, WHATEVER was amazing. It was probably more time together, as a whole family - maybe ever. Crazyville.

Then, school started again and immediately we were right back up to our eardrums in all of the above. I woke up Tuesday morning after spring break and that knot at the base of my neck was back. In less than 48 hours. Crazyville.

Then, you come to something like our crazy day today. (incidentally, from the time I posted the diagram of my afternoon to now, the picture has changed three times) Crazyville.

How do we simplify? Coach can't stop being a coach. Well, he could but that's like telling me to stop singing. I tried that for a season and all the color went out of my life. Not an option.

I can't stop doing my job. Well, I could but what would I be gaining other than some free time? And, who's to say it would work? I am a high-octane personality who tends to grow my job into a high-octane job; no matter where I am. My job today is significantly bigger than when I inherited it - I did that.

We could stop taking Munchkin to extra activities but I don't think anybody would accuse us of overscheduling our kids with extra-curriculars.

And Princess Crybaby is just a toddler along for the ride.

This may just be a season that we'll grow out of (or just have to live through). All in all, we have a great life - just a busy life. Crazyville.

Where is John Madden when you need him?

Normally, most afternoons are not THIS nutty. Today is a special case, though, so I thought it appropriate to post it; for safe-keeping. That way, when people say to me, "boy, you look tired," I can point to this and say, "well YEAH."

Short weeks are fun, aren't they?