And then came Sunday . . .

And Jesus Christ arose, crushing the enemy, conquering all His foes!

Happy Resurrection Sunday!! I hope and pray you all have a wonderful time as you celebrate that fact that our Lord and Saviour has conquered death and Satan and has risen from the dead!  Praise God, the tomb is empty!

Anyway, here is the ending of the re-telling I posted on Friday. The only difference is that instead of being in John's POV, this part is told in the apostle Peter's POV.

I was a coward. When it got down to it, that truly was what I had become. I had not only run and left my master alone in the garden, I had denied Him three times. And now I was hiding from the romans. Sulking and staying hidden because I feared what they could do to me. The way I felt, death might actually be a welcome relief from the burden of guilt that was crushing me. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Death would help nothing, I knew that. But was I to live the rest of my life like this? To never know the freedom of being forgiven? A movement to my right made me look up. John stood and moved toward the window, seeming to lose himself in the bright sunlight that shone through the opening. I wondered what he had seen at Jesus’s death that had changed him. He seemed different then the rest of us. He seemed to be at peace with how things were. It was a peace I longed for, but knew I would never again attain. How could I? The only thing that would still the longing of my heart was the knowledge that Jesus forgave me. But he was dead, and I could not even ask his forgiveness. I couldn’t have his mercy.

My thoughts were interrupted as the door suddenly swung open. Mary magdalene along with two other women, whose names I could not remember, came flying into the room.

I stood, fear stealing through my being. What would bring them here like this?

“They have said he is risen!” Mary spoke, the others not seeming to be able to find their voices just yet.

John took a step toward them. “Who? Who is risen?”

Mary took a breath in an apparent effort to calm herself before speaking again. “We went to the tomb this morning to anoint his body with spices, but when we got there, the stone was rolled away. And there was an angel there and he said to us, ‘Why do you seek the living among the dead? Jesus is not here, but is risen.’ Then he told us to come and tell his followers. And he said specifically to tell Peter.”

I felt her gaze leave John and come and rest on me. I stood there for a moment, not able to move. Risen? If it was so, why would they tell me? I inwardly scoffed. Surely this was a trick, something to get us out of hiding. Yet. . .a part of me longed for it to be true. Even hoped. Jesus had done miracles. Was it possible that just perhaps…?

Suddenly John rushed past the women and out the door of the house, running in the direction of the tomb. Without even realizing it I was on my feet and running after him. My mind old me it was impossible, but my heart yearned for what Mary had said to be true.

I caught up with John, but he overtook me as we neared. To my surprise, he stopped outside and simply peared through the opening.

I had always been the impatient one. I had to know what happened. I rushed past him through the opening, but suddenly I stopped. The grave clothes were folded neatly, but to my surprise, the cloth that covered Jesus’s face was not. It lay, folded, off to the side.

John joined me, but neither spoke. I ran my hands over the cloth that had covered Jesus. Where could he be?

One look at John’s face and I knew. He believed that Jesus truly had risen.

He left, yet I stayed a moment longer, trying to make sense of everything. The problem was, it didn’t seem as though there was any sense to be had.

I rubbed my head as a wave of weariness overcame me. Had Jesus's body been stolen? Or had he truly been raised from the dead? They were the only two options, and neither seemed likely. Romans soldiers had guarded the tomb, and no one would have dared to cross them to get to the body. That left only option that he had risen. I turned and made my way out into the bright sunshine again. John believed. Why couldn’t I? We had all seen Jesus’s great acts of power. Why was it easier for him to believe then me? Perhaps it was a question I would never be able to answer.

***

The rest of the day passed slowly. Except for John, none of the other disciples believed that Jesus truly had risen.

As evening approached, we all gathered together in the main room. Though no one spoke aloud, I knew they were all fearful of the romans. Anyone connected to Jesus was in danger of being arrested.

A sudden bright light flashed through the room, startling all of us. I raised a hand to my eyes to block it out. Could it have been lighting? It was the first thought that came to my mind, but that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t storming.

As the light faded, I looked up. A immediately felt a shock jolt me to the very core of my being. Jesus stood in the midst of us.

Jesus? Was it really him? I shrank back as the other gathered around him.
“Peace be unto you.” It was all he said, but it was enough. It truly was Jesus.

I still didn’t trust myself to approach him. Not after what I had done. But his eyes searched for me, and he met my gaze.

And in that moment, I knew I had been forgiven.

It felt as though a sudden weight had been lifted off my heart, as though a ray of sunshine had flooded my soul. It was true. Jesus had risen! He was alive, He had conquered death, and He had forgiven me. The guilt was gone, and Jesus was alive!

Luke 24:5-7 And as they were afraid and bowed their faces to the earth, they said unto them, Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not hear, but is risen: remember how he spake unto you when he was still in Galilee. Saying, the Son of man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.