Empty

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Five Minute Friday. The dare to write for 5 minutes flat without edits. Your heart on the screen in word form, no take-backs.

This week’s word: Empty. And my thoughts.

I don’t think my mother’s heart can ever imagine what it is like to watch your child die.  To stand at the foot of the cross, as Mary, the mother of Jesus, did, would be unbearable in totality.

Flashbacks of the night at the stable in Bethlehem had to be swirling in her mind.  Childhood memories collectively took turns reminding her of beautiful days.

He is the Son of God. Why is this happening?

The Bible tells us on more than one occasion that she, the mom,

Pondered these things in her heart.

Perhaps her understanding was greater than we can conceive.  The God of the universe born to her, the virgin, fulfilling prophecy and entering the world to become the Son of man and Savior. The Redeemer.

But oh the price.

She weeps. She grieves. She aches at every thought. To watch your child die is horrific enough, but to see his pain, view his agony, observe the markings of his torture. I cannot conceive. With every tear, she must have poured out her emotions and will.  She must have emptied herself to exhaustion until Christ no longer was on the cross.  His body was taken down and guarded in the grave by full force of soldiers.

And then the news came.

Resurrection morning.

He is NOT dead.

He is alive!

The tomb?

IT IS EMPTY!

He who emptied Himself for us, He who gave everything He had-

conquered death and did the unfathomable:

He exited the grave and

left

it

empty.