Darkest before the dawn

We've all heard that one before...it's always darkest before the dawn.

Here we are, Saturday night before "the Big One." And I'm struck by how it must have been on this day for those that followed Jesus 2000 years ago. They had put all their hope in this man that they knew be the great king.

And they had just watched 24 hours earlier this one being brutally killed in a way that only the worst criminals of the day were "taken care of." Pretty dark, indeed. No sign of the dawn.

Unlike those that have followed since, they didn't yet have the rest of the story. He was to come back from the dead...and they didn't know it. All their hopes were dashed and they were left utterly alone. Sometimes I feel that way...utterly alone with all of these thoughts rushing in and out of my consciousness. Right in the middle of this darkest of nights...there I sit.

But there it was; the morning. "Let's go to the grave." What kind of person does something like that? Wasn't it bad enough to see him bleed, die, and get ripped from that blasted tree? Why go to the site of his final rest? The pain must have been palpable. But sometimes the memory and desire for the good times overtakes the sadness and loneliness, and we just want to be near the object of the memory.

But what is this? Someone has scared off the guards and stolen the body! He is gone. The one moment of peace from the darkness has again been stolen. Where is he? What have they done with him...the one who was our hope?

As the sun crept over the horizon the realization rushed in. He is gone. But is he alive? Not to know just yet. The men leave, and the woman is there. Utterly alone. Weeping. Completely broken in her place of sorrow. Like me, sometimes. Then the voice.

"Why are you weeping?"

"They have taken the master and I don't know where to find him." This one that held such hope for me...he is gone and I don't know where to go. Where do I go to get close to the object of my hope?

"Mary."

That voice. I know that voice. I know the name he calls because He has called it many times. "Teacher!" And my heart jumps back to life.

The dawn has broken through and the time is new. And I barely remember the darkness of Saturday night.