“What’s going on?” the man said loudly before either of us knew what woke us – or even that we’d fallen asleep. He talked late into the night, captivating me with his stories. My mind raced between amazement that he was serious, and confusion – I mean, things he described simply don’t happen. But it all aligned with what I’d been hearing all day. I barely spoke the entire night but listened intently.
But now, something in me also sprang to life as the excited woman ran past us calling something about the tomb being empty. The man immediately bolted after her.
I had intended to leave early for the journey home, but I wound up dozing on the street next to this man. And yet heartbeats after my ears and eyes awoke, I was running after these people – I wanted to call to the man when I realized I never asked his name. I could hear their winded, excited, voices ahead of me, their feet pounded the ground and I did my best to catch up.
Soon I could see a huge stone sitting aside a carved opening in the rock, and the woman looking in from outside. When I arrived the man walked out of the tomb and silently hurried toward the town. The woman called to him, sobbing, “I tell you, the shroud, the napkin we covered his head with were sitting to the side, neatly folded. He was already gone.”
The man called back something about guards… and not enough people to move that stone. He couldn’t have seen me. He kept walking only faster.
A myriad of emotions overtook me – entirely exhausted, every hair on my body stood on end as though the air I breathed was charged with energy. I don’t know why I walked around while there could have been guards lingering about. Still, I studied the ground until I found a level place and sat to lean against the rock wall.
I don’t know how long I sat there until the light disturbed me. Overwhelmed with all my mind had to process in such a short time, I stood and staggered around a few steps to see the woman still standing at the opening of the tomb, weeping openly.
But the light – brilliant light I’ve never seen or even imagined, and I heard a voice, barely audible from where I leaned against the rocks, yet I clearly, distinctively heard the words from the source of the light, someone, some being seated on the stone,
“Don’t be afraid!” he said to her, “I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead, just as he said… And now, go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead…”*
Frozen in place, I watched the woman turn and run where the man had gone earlier. Then the light was gone as fast as she was and a dust cloud wafted over the scene.
Drawing every bit of strength I could muster up, shelving logic as best I could for the moment, I stumbled to the opening next to the stone where the being sat moments before.
As I peered into the darkness, suddenly the same light inside the tomb almost blinded me and yet I could make out the forms of two men. They said in perfect unison, “Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive?”**
I’m not sure what happened, I might have fainted. And yet I was more rested and energized than I had ever felt before. I recognized the sounds of footsteps swiftly approaching. Uncertain about anything anymore, I tried to not think. I climbed around the rocks again and hid. Though they all talked at once, some of the voices sounded upset, like the people that had been here earlier.
I slipped a few more feet away as quietly as I could. And yet I no longer cared why. I felt so… so relieved. I began walking, barely feeling my weight on my feet. Once past the tombs and on the road, I turned toward home. I couldn’t care about anything I left behind. Lost in my thoughts about my new friend and all he told me, all I heard from people, I could hardly wait to tell the friend I’d missed all week all I’d learned about this Jesus that was crucified.
Sure, he’ll probably think I’ve lost my senses. I don’t care. This Jesus lives!
“Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!” Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
John 20:28, 29 (NIV)
*Matthew 28:5-7 (NLT)
** Luke 24:5 (NLT) Paraphrased with creative license
Upgrades and technological advancements, hmmm.
While I do my best to rest and regroup, I reflected on August 2016:
I’m braining my way around a technical challenge, from beneath a pile of work (deadlines I can’t ignore); I should call my IT guy. But I really wanted to figure it out myself!
My challenge today:
Don’t get me wrong, I love some chewy yummieness. Still, cookies are not my friends – especially not in cyber world. It’s not that they’re villainous, I’m simply that picky about my privacy. I also like WordPress, but WordPress doesn’t appreciate my settings.
Temptation to change my settings (just so I can simply click “like” on a blog post) almost snared me – until I recalled the last time IT Guy had to “fix” my laptop. In that adorable, overly-controlled voice Quinn said, “Mom, do you remember me asking that you not change your security settings without first talking with me!”
One accidental drag across my touch pad cost Quinn a few hours of sleep. It cost me far more hours of compromised work time, two dozen homemade cookies, packaging, next day shipping and several more trips around the park (to burn what I had to sample).
Still, I’m grateful he found the malware and “fixed” my Pandora issue too. I was glad to pay up.
He also explained how, because my settings do not allow all cookies, I can’t simply “like” many posts from my laptop. Don’t get me started on blogs insisting I’m not logged in.
I get around it all on my trusty, old GS3 cell, despite the frustratingly tiny keypad. Tells when I post from the cell are obvious. Some of the typos have been entertaining. I.e., speech-to-text translated “Roo, I felt…” to “Roosevelt.” I like that, Roo Sevelt. But most errors are simply embarrassing.
I appreciate peer approval, and I sow where I like to reap. A well-timed “like,” notification or comment can refresh my perspective. So what if WordPress disallowing my pretty gold star trips me out sometimes.
Though great friendships have developed, that’s not why I write and I don’t blog solely for stats. Still, I appreciate friendly confirmation that my work’s worth reading. Disallowing cookies may cost me some effort and keystrokes, but the blogging community and my security is worth it. I hope my fellow bloggers also graciously understand my using WordPress with old technology.
I’m a somewhat obscure blogger, but God sees me. I can trust Him with my needs. Not that I couldn’t be content with a Surface Pro 4*! ‘Just watching for that Random House deposit to post… What? Oh, I must’ve dozed off. I was having that lovely dream – again.
*Update 2018 (in case anyone needs a charitable tax credit), my wish list includes:
“Not that I was ever in need, for I have learned how to be content with whatever I have.” Philippians 4:11 (NLT)
Images courtesy of Pixabay
Filed under Notes from the Apex
Tagged as apps, AUSU, Bible quote, blogging, blogging community, cell phones, comments, cookies, Dell, Huawei, Information Technology, IT Guy, laptop, likes, Pandora, privacy, Reblog, repost, security, speech-to-text, tablet, trusting God, WordPress, Writing