Can you see her?

Can you see her? 

It’s just after sunrise. It’s not yet fully light. She goes, to serve her Jesus. It’s her last act of devotion she can show to him this side of Heaven. 

This Jesus, he has changed everything for her. 

He freed her from her demons and her broken past. 

He lifted her up and called her  Beloved. Precious. Cherished. 

He gave her worth she did not know she had. 

In turn, she showed strength and dedication few others possessed. 

She was one of the last to stay with him as he hung on the cross. Long after the male disciples had fled, she stayed. Tortured, I’m sure, by his agony. But she refused to leave him alone. 

Because he had changed everything. 

I imagine that Saturday must have been so very long. There were things that must be done. There was honor that must be given. Her Jesus lay there in the tomb, unwashed, unloved, without honor or care. She had to show her love and commitment to him this one last time. 

For he had changed everything. 

So, early that morning, she set out with her spices. To do this one last thing. 

Her heart was broken. 

Her hope was gone. 

But she went. 

While the male disciples hid, in their fear, their grief, their uncertainty, she went. Because there were things that had to be done for her Jesus. 

Because he had changed everything. 

Can you see her? 

Can you see her wondering at who would move the heavy stone? 

Can you see her fear and confusion as she saw the open tomb, the stone rolled away?

Can you see her grief, and her loss, as bitter as the Friday prior, as her Jesus gasped his last words and breathed his final tortured breath? 

Her Jesus was gone. Taken. 

And the one thing she had to do, the last thing she could do, was now impossible. 

Her last chance to give to him, her last chance to love him, had been stolen from her. And her heart, which she thought could be broken no more, bled anew. 

Because he had changed everything. 

Can you see her as she meets the angels? Can you feel her confusion as they tell her that he is not there. That he has risen, as he said. She must have felt the object of a cruel and heartless joke. 

Can you see her?

Can you see her as she meets the man she mistakes as a gardener. As she begs to know where they have taken her Jesus. She is desperate now. She has lost so much. Must she suffer this loss too?

Can you see her?

As Jesus looks at her. In her pain. In her sorrow. In her complete lack of hope. And in her deep, deep love. 

And he calls her by name. 

Mary. 

Can you see her? As she recognizes her Lord. Her Jesus. 

The one who changed everything. 

Can you see her? 

As her beloved tells her to go and to tell the others. As he gives her, this lowly woman, this woman, with the broken heart,  and the broken past, the commandment to proclaim the truth. The power to witness to the miracle she has seen. 

Can you see her?

Jesus did. 

When others did not, Jesus did. 

And it changed everything.