Glorious day! Ever since my cancer journey, Easter has held special meaning. Not that it didn’t before, but the defeat of death takes on a new significance when you have to face the possibility. People sticking you with needles, cutting out parts of your body, ripping packing out of the hole left behind, and pumping poison into your veins doesn’t compare to the brutal death Jesus endured. But going through it certainly gives me an appreciation, and honestly leaves me in awe of what Jesus did. The fact that he knew the outcome would result in his death is beyond comprehension to me. I know that the human body can only take so much, and what his took set me free. I cannot push that to the side. I cannot glaze over it. He hurt. He bled. Silently.
Not me. When I hurt, I screamed. When I bled, I cried. I asked for it to stop. I begged for relief. I held tightly to his hand. I felt his scars caressing me, comforting me, reminding me of the glorious day. Death died. Life won. The empty tomb is not lost on me. It is not just a story I listen to each year. It is real. I walked out of the tomb. However, the most beautiful thing is that if I had not, I still would have. Either way it went, I would have won. Gratitude does not begin to cover my overwhelming thankfulness to him. Because of what he did, I cannot lose. My friends, that is something to celebrate…with dancing!!