And they said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “Because they have taken away my Lord…” –John 20:13a
I’m sitting here on the floor of my daughter’s room, listening to rain fall hard outside on this Easter Sunday. While our Semana Santa was far from what we had hoped, it has led our hearts to question what we value and where our security lies.
Earlier this week we got the call that our house had been broken into while away for a family vacation at the beach. We returned to find much of our home torn apart—drawers dumped on the floor, cabinets flung open and emptied out, a trail of our food half eaten and left behind.
The first question always seems to be, “What all did they take?” I asked it right away. That’s what everyone wants to know. And as I begin to lament and list off the missing items, I hear a voice in my head, They didn’t actually take anything.
We have joked that these past few days have felt so far from a “holy week.” Yet more than ever my fingers have been peeled back from the things I hold onto. I’m seeing that there’s often bondage in stuff. Things weigh us down, keeping us stationary and fearful of what we would do without them.
We have been praying for the Lord’s redemptive work in this situation. We believe that this was most likely someone who lives close by, a neighbor we may have even invited into our home before. Yet we confess we also want to know. We crave justice immediately, even revenge. We pray that instead of allowing seeds of bitterness and distrust to take root that we would choose to love, give graciously, and continue to invite others in. We ask that instead of allowing fear and anger to fester and cripple us that the Lord would soften our hearts and we would trust in Him fully to protect and provide.
So as I sit here in Charlotte’s room, I can honestly say that we are lacking for nothing. I hold a list of what was taken, and yet we have an abundance. Both tangibly and spiritually, our cup overflows. They didn’t actually take anything.
Mary wept because she thought Christ’s body was gone. I cry over lost pictures on a hard drive, stolen jewelry, and food missing from my pantry.
We rejoice this Easter Sunday because all that we truly have as disciples, all we ought to hold dear, can never be taken from us.