I was there. I saw I heard. They nailed Him to a cross. I heard Him say, “Father, forgive them.” Then, He said, “My God, why have you forsaken me?” I remembered that from a Psalm.
The day was so long, so dark, such agony. His last words—I heard them, “It is finished!” Was that a sigh of defeat or did I hear triumph in those words?
But He’s dead. He’s dead.
Everything happened so quickly after that. Joseph and Nicodemus took Him down from the cross and hastily anointed and wrapped His body. They hurried to put Him in Joseph’s tomb nearby. They rolled a stone in place and left. I was watching. I knew where He was buried.
Sabbath began at sundown, so we all went home. Sabbath was a quiet time of mourning and defeat for all of us. Was I a fool to believe He was Messiah? Were the miracles all fake? No! He cast demons out of me! I know He was not a fake!
It is morning of the first day; some of the other women and I are taking more spices to rewrap His body. But look! The stone is rolled away! Oh, no! Someone has stolen His body! I must go and tell His disciples!
Peter and John have come back with me to see for themselves. He is gone. His grave-clothes are there, but He is gone. Why would someone want to take His body? Peter and John are leaving, shaking their heads.
I see a man coming this way. He may be the gardener. “Sir, do you know where they have taken my Lord’s body?……..”
“Mary….”
His voice! Oh, my Lord! He’s alive! ALIVE!!! YOU ARE ALIVE!!!
