Then Came the Dawn

I, like the women followers of Jesus, am up early before the dawn. They were prepared to do one last service for the Son of God — or so they thought. They had been with him through it all: the teachings, the travels. They had heard everything. And yet here they are, prepared to anoint his body with spices and herbs.

They had seen it all. They knew he was dead and buried. Their hearts must have been beyond broken — maybe even mortified that they had followed him all those years, believed him to be the Son of God, and yet here they are with jars of ointment. Not a single disciple in sight. They had fled to parts unknown, scared, hearts broken, wondering how they might go on.

The women took on the task of loving him one more time. They were the faithful. The committed. Servants beyond the end.

Then came the dawn. And a stone that had been moved. And angels, once again, proclaiming the news to the women — Luke 24:5–6. I love it when angels show up. Something marvelous is happening.

I do not ever watch a sunrise and not think of this long-ago morning. I think that is why I love the early morning so much — it is always filled with a promise.

May today be filled with his promise. He’s coming back. I bet women will be the first to see him this time too.

Love, Pam