He is Risen!

When I prepare to celebrate the glorious resurrection of Christ, an unusual, conflicting memory often surfaces: 

I was between eight and ten years old, Sunday School was over, and I, along with a group of boys, was preparing to march inside and be a part of “Big Church.” And, then it happened! With the sun shining brightly on a wonderful Florida day, the excited chatter was pierced by the remarks of a tall, thin, balding man. Somewhat of a recluse, the brother of a prominent lady in the church — rumor had it that he had once been a preacher — uttered words that fell like a dark cloud on the bubbling happiness: “Boys, this day is always a sad time for me; my little girl died on Easter.” My cheerfulness vanished!

When the doors opened, I made my way inside with two opposing cognitions that I was incapable of sorting out until much later in life: Easter is a time of glorious hope and joy! This unusual man’s hope had been shattered and he was filled with sadness! Today, looking back and personally knowing the pain of having lost a young child, I want to rush over, comfort him and offer hope. I will address this conundrum through the lens of Scripture, my present situation, and our glorious hope.

Lens of Scripture

...if there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, then all our preaching is useless, and your faith is useless. And we apostles would all be lying about God—for we have said that God raised Christ from the grave. But that can’t be true if there is no resurrection of the dead. And if there is no resurrection of the dead, then Christ has not been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, then your faith is useless and you are still guilty of your sins. In that case, all who have died believing in Christ are lost! And if our hope in Christ is only for this life, we are more to be pitied than anyone in the world. But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead. He is the first of a great harvest of all who have died (1 Corinthians 15:13-20 NLT).

My Present Situation

On April 10, 2022, a nurse at Legacy Village informed me that Linda had fallen and was being transported to Erlanger Medical Center in Chattanooga; a possible stroke and dislocated leg were suspected. When I arrived at her side, I was pleased to find that she seemed to recognize me as someone special, and was impressed by the fact that on three separate occasions, she pointed upward and pleasantly smiled. After extensive evaluation, no evidence of a stroke or dislocated leg was found and she was dismissed. At that point, her cognitive capacities and behavior were much like they had been in recent weeks. During the drive back to Cleveland, suddenly, her demeanor changed, she began talking in complete sentences, told me how much she loved me, and twice reached over and kissed me. For the most part, her newly found exuberance continued throughout the next day, and then the fog of confusion and inability to communicate once again descended. 

One year later, things have drastically changed. Ten weeks ago today, Linda fell and fractured her hip; her medical team and caregivers are doing everything possible to keep her comfortable as she transitions to her Heavenly existence! Last Tuesday, as I drove over to see her, the Lord allowed me to connect two wonderful truths in a very meaningful way:

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants (Psalm 116:15 NIV).

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am” (John 14: 1-3 NIV).

Granting myself theological liberties, I imagined Christ putting the finishing touches on the indescribably beautiful room that He has prepared for Linda, and eagerly awaiting her arrival. In the midst of great pain, I felt immense joy!

Our Glorious Hope

An old song that I surely sang in “Big Church,” on that Easter of long ago, encapsulates my hope:

Up from the grave He arose!
With a mighty triumph o’er His foe;
He arose a Victor from the dark domain,
And He lives forever with His saints to reign,
He arose! He arose! 
Hallelujah! Christ arose!