Your Easter Sunday Is On Its Way

I want you to do something for me. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine it's the darkest stretch of days the world has ever known. The sky went black in the middle of the afternoon. The earth shook. The temple veil ripped right down the middle. And the Man they had called the Son of God took His last breath on a Roman cross.

The days that followed were devastating. The disciples huddled together in a locked room, trembling behind closed doors. Peter was a wreck. John had nothing to say. The women were weeping. And two shell-shocked followers shuffling down the road to Emmaus were kicking the dust with heavy feet and mumbling to each other about how they had hoped He was the One. Past tense. Had hoped.

They had followed Him. Believed in Him. Left everything for Him. And now He was dead, sealed behind a borrowed stone, and their hope was buried right along with Him.