All week long we've taken a day to remember the last week of Christ's life. Holy week.
And now it's over ... right? Easter Sunday.
But Easter isn’t the end!
It’s the beginning.
A stone rolled back, our Savior walking out into morning light.
Today, we celebrate the day Jesus rolled away the stone.
A man who once was dead rose up—
and He lives today.
To comfort me.
To bless me.
To calm my troubled heart.
All because of His perfect love.
My kind, wise, heavenly Friend.
He lives.
Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives—
I know that my Redeemer lives.
This isn’t just a symbol of hope.
It’s the source of it.
Not a metaphor. Not a myth.
But a real, risen King who changed everything.
If Jesus really did walk out of that grave—
then shame doesn’t stay buried inside us.
Sin doesn’t speak the last word.
And death has already been defeated.
Because Christianity isn’t just good advice.
It’s good news.
News that flips everything upside down:
That the Cross wasn’t the end.
And the tomb wasn’t strong enough to hold Him.
So perhaps like me, you're wondering how you can take all of these Easter messages to heart. Really apply them, rather than pushing the save button, hoping you'll stumble upon it another time.
My take away?
He’s still moving stones.
Big ones. Small ones.
The heavy grief. The quiet shame. The buried fears.
He is not only able—He is willing.
He lives to do it.
He loves to do it.
He’s already done it.
And He invites us to trust Him again.
Because the One who rose again is the same One who walks beside us now.
Eternal life doesn’t start when you die, it starts when you surrender. When you say yes to the One who calls you by name and will never let you go.
So let’s live like people truly shaped by the resurrection.
Let’s choose mercy when bitterness feels easier.
Let’s carry hope into the shadows.
Let’s love boldly, as if the grave has already lost—
because it has.
He lives.
To plead for me above.
To silence all my fears.
To wipe away my tears.
I know that my Redeemer lives.
I know He is exactly who He said He was—
a King, yes, but also a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.
A perfect empath, not because He had to be,
but because He wanted to know the depth of our pain—
so He could meet us in it, and lead us out of it.
Because of that love, He is still breaking chains.
Still rolling stones.
He rolled the stone away then,
and He lives to roll away ours now.
Whatever weight you carry,
may it be lifted by the hands that still bear the marks of love.
He lives—my kind, wise, heavenly Friend.
He lives—and loves me to the end.
But this isn’t the end.
Not even close.
Easter is just the beginning.
Add comment
Comments