Reflecting on John 20:19-31
Afterwards, people asked me questions for the rest of my life. Why didn’t I believe the others when they told me the Lord had appeared to them that Easter morning? Wasn’t I ashamed to stand before him after I had demanded proof of his resurrection?
I don’t remember any of that. When he entered the room that night everything changed forever. My Jesus, my Savior, my Risen One was alive. And all my deepest hopes came roaring back.
He showed me his wounds—his pierced wrists and his gaping side—but all the things I thought I needed to see and touch melted as he stood before me. His face was so radiant with love for me, so full of joy for me, because he knew that with the words from his mouth I would come back to myself.
And then, after he ascended to heaven, I traveled far outside the Roman Empire to preach my Jesus, who loved me enough to come back to the room where I waited, longing, afraid to hope, secretly bursting with hope.
Are you afraid to hope that he will lead you out of your grave, just as he knew the way out of his own? Listen to my voice, reaching you right now from the ancient Gospel. He’s alive.
Is there a part of you is wrestling with unbelief these days?
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I have come to light a fire on the earth; how I wish it were already burning (Lk.12:49).