This morning, my thoughts are turned to what I consider the singularly most significant morning of my life. I was not there, but I believe. More than that, I feel. In my mind I see brief moments where a supposed gardener spoke to a woman who was crying. Mary Magdalene was beyond sorrowful, first at the death of Jesus, and secondly, because His body which she had prepared for burial had been taken. It took only one word to renew her hope. Mary. The Lord spoke her name in a very personal way, and she recognized the Master.
I realize that she and I share something in common. Both of us believed in something that we did not see with our eyes, yet heard and then felt in our hearts. This prescribed pattern for most believers is the same, to trust in things that we cannot see but hope are true – things that we feel.
Before Jesus offered his life as a ransom in Gethsemane and at Golgotha, he told his apostles, “These things have I spoken unto you, being yet present with you. But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you. Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. (John 14:25-27)
Pondering on the magnitude of the Savior’s sacrifice and the miracle of His glorious resurrection, I am filled with gratitude that He would offer such wonderful gifts to a soul so rebellious and proud as mine. Because He triumphed over the effects of sin and death, I can too. Through His holy name, I can believe, become clean, and live in His presence again. I can be there with family, friends, and loved ones because this gift is offered to all who will believe.
I may not hear the Lord’s voice as clearly as did Mary, but I can still hear His voice call my name when I listen to the voice of His Holy Spirit. When I pay attention to the peace and comforting feeling that attends all truth, the Holy Ghost brings special feelings to my remembrance. It is then that I remember how it feels to be called by the voice of the Master. In a very personal way, I can recognize His invitation to follow Him and have the assurance that it is right.
Had I been at the empty tomb with Mary, and seen the angels who were present, I may not have believed any more than she. Yet as I learn to recognize the promptings of the Holy Ghost, my revelation is as clear as hers. The Master lives, for He is risen. Because of that glorious morning, there will be an eternity of beautiful mornings. Each morning we may hear His voice, if we will but pause to listen and then recognize the Master.
What I Believe…