I have just returned from an afternoon spent in a hospital room. I was joined by my older and younger sisters. We were, in fact, on the Hospice floor, and we three together held vigil over my younger sister’s husband. Her ex-husband of many years to be honest. We conversed quietly as he lay in silence on a bed that balances before the Veil – a veil that will tear open in the hours to come. I glanced over several times to look upon the man I once called brother-in-law. A man now small and shrunken and breathing shallow. A man no longer able to inflict harm on a soul. And I find myself watching my sister upon whom that man was able to cast such harm and destruction. Her face is only care and compassion and forgiveness. Her face, like mine, has known the sorrow of all that marriage should never be, and yet here she sits, alone with her sisters to sit vigil over life and death, ashes and beauty. She has chosen to live in the quiet, gentle power of a vulgar cross and an empty tomb.

“He’s made his peace with God, Pam. We’ve had many conversations in the past few weeks.” A bible lies open on the tray next to the bed. She tells me that she began reading Psalm 23 to him, and now she’s on chapter 42. She shares this from a heart that wants only to offer the only thing that matters at this point – the company of a friend and the comfort of living words. All the years of grief, all the battles and bruises and bewildering scars that lodge themselves in the heart of a woman who has been at the mercy of misplaced power have no sway in this room. Banished are the ugly talons of demons that would tear open afresh every blow. There is only love. There in only grace. Grace that confounds the untried and wraps the receiving heart in the warmth of freedom and love. Holy gifts secured in an empty tomb.

An empty tomb. This is the weekend. The weekend we joyously sing and echo in concert “Hallelujah! He is risen indeed!” And we are so relieved and grateful that Jesus  was telling the truth and that He did indeed pay the price of our sin with His blood on that cross and that He did indeed “overwhelm the grave” and that He did indeed arise alive and lives now with His Father.  Hallelujah! A perfect word to express thanks and honor for this glorious, life-saving, eternal gift of redemption. How better can we express it? What more can we say? What words….?

“I forgive you.” ” You are not alone.” “Are you comfortable?” “Do you need a drink?” “Shall I call the nurse?” “I am here for you.”

An unjust trial. The cruel nails. The bloodied cross. The darkened earth. The rent veil. The borrowed tomb. The empty tomb. The result? Forgiven sinners.  Hearts healed and ransomed from the ravages of sin and sinful choices. Souls mended. Risks taken. Forgiveness offered. Kindness extended. Freedom. To love. To heal. To offer. To the ones who have hurt us the most. To the ones who need it the most. Because so do we.

He is risen indeed…and those who love Him bear His image.