wounds renewed

The hurried feet of women announce the dawning of a new day, with all hopes lost yet trying to keep his human form for as long as they possibly can before his final decomposition. With a broken heart, Mary weeping and wanting to share how lonely her life has become in so small a time makes her way to his resting place. Why did he have to come into her life, only to depart before she even knew him? The change he had brought in her life, so overwhelming that no solace could ever fill it for all eternity.
Did he even care about how she felt, this once Whore of the town transformed, that knew dignity for only a while and only to be stolen by his death?
The whole world weeps with her. Why did he have to live when we finally had hope? Our hearts pang at his loss. More miserable than lepers we stand, alien to all that we ever knew and loved before we met him.
The distant wails of a woman resonate a new wave of deeper grief. That voice so unmistakably the woman at the tomb. What could have happened this time? Wasn’t his death enough? My heart unwilling to take, I choose to part from this world. May the Lord curse the day I was born, the day my worthless being came into existence. For willing as my heart was, my legs would not move to rescue my dying friend or better still trade places with him.
The distant wailing turns into shouts of joy and my heart quickens as the feet of the woman break the morning silence. Will my heart be strong enough to stomach it all? My life is no longer worth living. If shock be my death then so be it.
“Our master is alive” announces the woman,” he has trampled over death and walks among the living looking for a house to stay in. Yet he seeks not the houses made of clay and but the hearts of men that make them” Great joy has come to those that died with him for in their hearts lives a revived spirit, Christ in them never to depart.
Shout all ye that weep, for the Lord has announced his resurrection with great tremor and his company with binding love.


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