The Half-Life of a Believer Lingering in the Tomb

Death is a cold thud onto unforgiving earth. It’s the keening wail of a bereft soul.

Death is an empty stare. An icy rain. A debt come due in a dry season. An unwelcome knock at the door.

A thief in the night. A dagger at your rib. A hand around your throat.

A betrayal. A sucker punch. An endless fall.

And Jesus stared into the gaping maw, which was death, and stepped into it willingly for us.

Knowing many would ignore His sacrifice – scorn it, reject it, disbelieve it, or take it for granted. He took the bullet, stepped into the line of fire, fell on our grenade, body-blocked our assassination,

walked into the burning tower as the weight of our collective sins collapsed onto His shoulders and we ran whole and free.

He trusted His Father’s plan in a way none of us will ever have to know, with a faith we won’t have to conjure because He will infuse His into our anemic hearts. He stepped into the jaws of our enemy and walked away with our redemption.

And now, do we tarry in our tombs?Languishing in the fumes of our resurrection rather than face the light, fall on our faces before the Giver of Life?

Do we clutch our grave cloths to us, seeking comfort in the familiarity of the lingering stench of our former selves rather than embrace the responsibility that comes when we take on the robes of righteousness He provides?

Do we choose to pay rent for a crypt from which we’ve been released to avoid stepping into the freedom He gave Himself up to provide?

Let us not hover in the half-life of freedom bestowed, but not enjoyed. Emerge from the tomb where no living should reside. Step into the mystery of the kingdom come – of life eternal touching the common now. Speak freely of the death we once knew but shed like snakeskin and left on the floor of His tomb when we knelt at the foot of His cross.

Let our lives announce His conquest. May those who encounter us recognize the clear choice between the black-and-white chains of death and the rainbow prism of eternal life.

We were once enslaved to death, but life has been imparted to us and we will let it show on our faces, in our deeds, and in the stories we live and tell.

Easter isn’t a day for pastel ties and chocolate crosses,

Easter is a declaration of independence from the enemy that stalked us from our first dusty breath and still rages to suck the marrow from our souls, our lives, our testimonies, but he cannot – will not – does not own us nor does he have the last word on our days.

It is a day to celebrate His heroism that echoes in every story we tell where the One gives up His life for the many.

It is a day to abandon the hollowed tombs of our ransomed lives to step into the life He gives that can never be taken and is ours to testify to the world that not only does our Savior live, but because of Him, so do we.

The Half-Life of a Believer Lingering in the Tomb https://t.co/b1bLyeDMcD #Easter #freedom #JesusSaves

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) April 19, 2019