“And the angel of the Lord…came…and sat upon the stone.” 

Matthew 28v2

The stone stood as a silent sentinel, blocking the entrance to the cave. On the other side, or so she thought, lay Jesus, her Lord. And wrapped up with Him lay all her shattered hopes and dreams. Dead.

She’d come to say good-bye - farewell to faith.

She’d come to grieve - to let go of the hope that had held her in such wild expectation every time He talked.

It was over now. Best to be done with it and cope with reality…

deal with drudgery…

face her future…

But that stone blocked her way.

Falling to the ground in a heap of defeated despair, pulling her knees tight against her chest, she rocked back and forth, back and forth, as her sobs filled the early morning air.

Why… 

was…

life…

so… 

hard…?

Waves of grief shook her. Years of hurt overwhelmed her reason, spilling out upon the unyielding realities of that stone. There was nothing to do but die.

Somewhere in the periphery of her mind she sensed movement, but her sorrow was too great to stop and listen. But there...

A sound...A scrape.

Was that a cough?

Her sobs slowed, again a noise.

Fear froze her. Oh no, what now?

Slowly, hesitantly, as if she could wait away the next disaster, she looked up.

An angel sitting on the stone,

that gargantuan…

immovable…

uncontrollable mountain of impossibilities…

And the stone was moved…just like that.

Is a stone blocking your way to life? To peace? To joy? Have you worn yourself out trying to push it away? Have you exhausted your soul trying everything to change your circumstances? Are you sweaty and angry and defeated and discouraged? Have you lost hope?

Sit still awhile. Sit at the tomb of your tomorrows and let yourself grieve what might have been…should have been. Cry it all out.

And when you’re done,

listen…

shhh…

quiet…

be still…

In the ashes of your grief, in the failure of your fantasies of how life ought to be, sits Jesus. In dazzling white He sits atop that stone…

immune to impossibilities…

with a different idea of the ideal.

And while you’re there, let Him fill you with His hope and His dreams. Let Him store those tears away, pack up your past, relinquish your regrets, and give you a new start, a new life … a renewed hope.

After all, He rolled away that stone.

From my heart,

Diane

Can you tell me what hope has come out of your ashes? Is there a story you really need to tell to point all the rest of us to His hope? Please do.