𝗜 𝗪𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗞𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗛𝗶𝗺

"𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥... 𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥... 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘏𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯... 𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘭𝘶𝘫𝘢𝘩! 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘳! "

"𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦: 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘯, 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥. 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘺." --𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵.28.6

‎Easter is often told through the lens of grief, confusion, and delayed recognition. The empty tomb was not immediately met with rejoicing—but with tears, fear, and doubt. Mary Magdalene wept, thinking the body of Jesus had been taken. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus walked in sorrow, unable to perceive that the very One they mourned was walking beside them. Even the disciples, hidden behind closed doors, struggled to recognize Him when He stood in their midst of them. ‎Yet beneath these moments lies a deeper truth: their reactions were shaped by emotions that overshadowed remembrance. Jesus had already spoken of His death and resurrection—but in the weight of loss, His words were forgotten.

‎

‎This poem is a reflection written from a place of contrast—an imagined but would have been a real response anchored not in fear, but in unwavering faith by which I am holding onto in so many dark trials I have met along the way that have become a story I always love to tell (and I know many more stories to tell are still on their way)...It asks: What if His Words had been held onto, kept in the heart, pondered upon and had meditated on? What if hope had outlived sorrow? What if recognition came not after, but instantly—because faith and love never wavered and His presence confirmed His Words?

“𝗜 𝗪𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗛𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗞𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗛𝗶𝗺”

Before the dawn could break its seam,

While shadows clung to sorrow’s gleam,

They walked with spices, hearts all broken—

Forgetting what the Lord had spoken.

But I—

I would not bring the grave its claim,

Nor wrap my hope in death or shame,

For every Word that Jesus would impart, 

Would burn like fire within my heart.

When Mary wept her head bowed down,

And grief had made the whole garden frown,

She thought Him taken, stolen, gone—

Forgetting His promise she felt the sorrow all alone. 

But I—

I would have known that voice so near,

Sweet tones of love which brings so much cheer,

For when He calls me, just once, by my name,

My heart would surely leap—and starts aflame! 

Along the Emmaus quiet road walked, 

Two disciples whose hearts haunted with fear, shocked. 

He spoke the Word, unveiled the fulfilling prophecy—

But their eyes veiled, His identity remained a mystery.

But I—

With heart burning of the wondrous sight,

For the truth once heard becomes a light,

And every promise He humbly declared, 

Would make His presence fully bared. 

Behind closed doors, in fear confined,

With hearts trembling, troubled in their minds,

He stood in their midst, blessed them with peace,

But their overwhelmed hearts did not find sweet release.

But I—

Would not be shaken, lost in dread,

For when He had told, “I’ll rise from dead,”

Like Mary I'd keep all to heart for the appointed day,

My soul would watch, wait, hope, and pray.

I wouldn't be one seeking among the graves, 

The Living One who came for me to save,

With songbirds as sunrise paints the mountains in golden rays, 

I'll be erupted in praise and ecstasy at the first light of day. 

His Words I'll keep, ponder, and meditate, 

For they will surely speak, confirm and dictate—

And in the waiting, I'd confidently stand,

The resurrection power captured in my hand.

For once He said... I’d believe in faith.

Once He promised...I’d wait in faith.

When He rises—I’d surely know Him…

For His identity He'd surely confirm. 

‎‎The resurrection is not only a moment in history—it is an invitation into a posture of faith. The same question asked at the tomb still echoes today: “Why seek the living among the dead?” It challenges us to examine where our expectations lie and whether we truly hold fast to what God has already spoken.

‎‎This poem is not a condemnation of the disciples’ humanity, but a call to rise above the same tendencies within ourselves. When circumstances grow dark and understanding falters, will we forget His promises—or will we stand firmly on them? To remember His Word is to recognize His presence. To hold onto His promises is to remain steady in the waiting...and to believe Him fully is to encounter Him without delay.

‎‎May we be people who do not lose sight in sorrow, but carry an unwavering faith that sees, knows, and confidently recognizes Him—always.