The Borrower

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Jesus was buried in a borrowed tomb.
He had planned ahead for the entrance into Jerusalem.
He had pre-arranged details for the Last Supper.
He knew everything that was going to happen to Him.

But He hadn’t prepared for His burial,
so Christ was laid in a borrowed grave.

Borrowed. 

Borrow: to obtain or receive something on loan for temporary use, intending to give it back.

Jesus didn’t need a permanent grave.
He just needed to borrow one for a few days.
Joseph of Arimathea would get his tomb back because
Jesus had no intention of staying there for very long.
It would be a brief stopover.

When I die, tell everyone that I’m just borrowing that grave, because I’m going to be giving it back. On the day the angel shouts and the trumpet sounds, I’ll be among those rising up. Ain’t no grave gonna hold me down.

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“We know that God, who raised the Lord Jesus, will also raise us.”
2 Cor. 4:14
“Because I live, you also will live.”
John 14:19

“Ain’t No Grave” by David Crowder

Holy Week Confession

thornsI’m grateful for Saturday — the day after Good Friday. The intense emotions of Holy Week wear me out and a breather is welcome.

Engaging in the events that marked the last week of Jesus’ life on earth was a struggle for me this year. I didn’t know if I had it in me to walk through the suffering and death of my Jesus yet again. Every year it seems to hurt more. I seriously considered just going through the motions and pushing through the dark days until the relief and rejoicing of the empty tomb on Easter morning.

In other words, I wanted to skip the suffering and go straight to the celebration.

It doesn’t work.

Because going through the motions is exactly how to engage the emotions. As a pastor’s wife, Holy Week services are not optional. I intended to show up, but I planned to keep my heart guarded and not enter in to the agonizing story once more. But showing up was all it took for God to break down my resistance.

On Thursday, I sat in the quiet sanctuary, drew near to the table, tasted the bread, swallowed the juice. I took Him in.

On Friday, I heard the words of Isaiah and Luke, surveyed the wondrous cross, sang, “If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.” He took me in.

Going through the motions is what ushered me straight into His presence.

On this blessed quiet Saturday, I am remembering that the day after the death of Christ is also the day before the glorious life of Christ. But it is the suffering of yesterday that gives weight to the jubilant joy of tomorrow.

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”         Psalm 30:5

Awesome Easter

I hope you had a lovely Easter.

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I hope you breathed deep of the lillies.

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I hope you celebrated the empty tomb.

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I hope you worshiped the risen King of Kings.

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I hope you ate candy and cheesecake and strawberry pie.

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I hope you didn’t judge me when you drove by our house.

I hope you understood that just recently the snow banks melted enough to reveal the buried Holy Family.

I hope you know I begged PB to put the Christmas decor away before Easter

He tried.  Honestly, he did.

But they were iced into the ground.  Frozen solid.

So the pastor had a nativity scene set up in his yard for Easter.

Awesome.