Today I am thinking of a girl who grew up in the church, but was afraid to return to it because she thought she no longer belonged. I am thinking of a girl who had let bitterness take root underneath a perfectly-performed smile. I am thinking of a girl who could not even recognize the grace that surrounded her because she was just too tired of life in a fallen world.
I am thinking these things because I was that girl.
And I have a story that I want to share with you today because I am also thinking about the gracious love of a Father who tenderly and persistently called me home.
On one Easter Sunday morning over a decade ago, Tom, Thomas, and I sat in church together. The pastor taught from John 20, about the moment Jesus appeared to Mary after His resurrection.
Jesus Appears to Mary Magdalene 11 Now Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb 12 and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. 13 They asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?” “They have taken my Lord away,” she said, “and I don’t know where they have put him.” 14 At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not realize that it was Jesus. 15 He asked her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means “Teacher”). 17 Jesus said, “Do not hold on to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go instead to my brothers and tell them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’ ” 18 Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” And she told them that he had said these things to her.
The New International Version (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2011), Jn 20:11–18.
What you don’t know about that Sunday morning was that I had not been to a formal church service in about 3 years, nor had I opened the pages of my Bible in that time. During that season, my father’s car hit a tree, and we had about forty-eight hours with him before our family decided to turn his life support off. I struggled deeply in my grief during that time. I was so blinded by my grief that I couldn’t see God’s movement or feel His love for me. I lashed out at Him in anger over my circumstances. I turned away from Him and my faith.
Until that Sunday morning.
As the pastor taught us from John 20, I felt a lot like Mary. She had traveled with Jesus for three years and yet, when He appeared to her in the garden after His resurrection, she was so blinded by her grief that she didn’t recognize Him. She thought He was the gardener.
I’ll never forget the moment in that Sunday service where Thomas, who was around six at the time, shoved his open Bible in my face and exclaimed: “see, Mommy, see! She didn’t even know it was Jesus! But it was Jesus!”
Like Mary, I had been so blinded by my own grief that I wasn’t able to recognize Jesus anywhere, although He was walking right beside me all the time.
Grief. Loss. Sadness. Storms of life can skew our perspective.
How many times over the past few years have I said, just like Mary, they have taken my Lord away…and I don’t know where they have put him…? I don’t know where they have put him! Just tell me where he is and I will get him! Where did He go? Why can’t I hear Him?
I let my sadness consume me, and the root of bitterness planted itself in my heart. I couldn’t see Jesus. I couldn’t see past my own grief to where Jesus was right in front of me.
But God.
In a tender and gracious way that only He could orchestrate, Jesus pursued me until I was back into a close and personal relationship with Him. Every Easter I remember this story and thank God for His unending love for me.
This past Wednesday night, we sat in church, thinking about the the goodness of God and the good news of gospel – Jesus’ sacrificial love for us that He might go to the cross to rescue me from my sinful nature – and we recited these words together: God’s mercy endures forever.
Just like Jesus whispered Mary’s name to her, He whispered my name on that Sunday morning. And I am so thankful that God called me back home to Him.
Tomorrow we celebrate Easter, a day of renewal, hope, and profound joy in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. If you are like me, if it’s been a while since you walked through the doors of a church, since you bowed your head in worship, since you opened the pages of a Bible, may this be a reminder to you that you can always come home.
You can go back. Easter is the perfect time to rediscover your faith, to be embraced by a community that cares, and to renew your spirit in the grace and truth of the resurrection. No matter how long it’s been or how far you’ve wandered, the message of Easter assures us that renewal is possible, forgiveness is waiting, and God’s love is endless. This Easter, let’s step into the light of His love, together.
I’ll see you at church. There is seat waiting for you there.
I’m rooting for you, always.
