The resurrection is all around us. Can you see it?
My Mom was an expert gardener. Totally brilliant. My parent's large farmyard has flowerbeds everywhere, and my mom performed miracles in those gardens. It was something to behold.
My sister has inherited this trait. I most certainly have not. Last summer for the first time ever I actually kept my flowers alive.
Last August when Lillian turned 5, my Dad uprooted some of my mom's lilies and gave them to Lily for her birthday. Grandma Pam's lilies for Lily on her fifth birthday. Well done, Grandpa. Well done.
The only problem? Lily's mom's lack of transplanting skills. I put them in the ground, for sure, but as I was unpotting and and replanting them, the roots were falling apart. I planted them anyway and shoved the roots under the soil in hopes that something might live.
For the remainder of the summer/fall, nothing. They just looked like long lily stems that were never going to flower again. They withered as the cold grew and I thought they were dead and gone.
Today, I sent my kids out to play. It's been raining for most of the last week, so we haven't been in the backyard much for several days. Lily comes running to me, "Mom! Mom! The lilies are growing!"
See, Lily totally inherited her Grandma's love of gardening. Paul's mom is a wonderful gardener too, so my girls have inherited this gift from both Grandmas. So when she saw it, she knew. She knew exactly what those buds in the ground are. She knew they had conquered what we thought was a final death on those poorly transplated lily plants. She knew her mom had no idea how to transplant the lilies. She watched her mom clumsily shove the roots under the soil last summer. She knew it was the miracle it appeared to be.
When I saw it, I saw the resurrection. I saw the empty tomb.
Life when I expected death.
It's everywhere, you know. The resurrection is the air we breath. It's the beating of our hearts. It's the blood in our veins. It's the greatest miracle and yet the most basic reality of every single day.
It's the grass turning green after a long bitter winter. It's the sunshine after the rain. It's the rainbow amidst the grey clouds. It's returning health and strength after a battle with illness. It's a new pregnancy after a miscarriage. It's the gift of adoption after infertility. It's forgiveness after dissension. It's resolution after conflict. It's recommitting to love when you thought the marriage was over. It's freedom after bondage. It's a new morning after a sleepless night. It's a peaceful evening after an exhausting day. It's laughter after tears. It's hope amidst the trial. It's the joy of knowing Christ. It's baby cuddles in the midst of a chaotic house. It's the peace of knowing we'll see those we've loved and lost when we trust in Christ.
It's life instead of death.
The resurrection is the fabric of our being. The empty tomb isn't a story that was made up 2,000 years ago. It's our daily reality. The greatest moment in history and the moment of history that keeps living moment after moment after moment, for all eternity.
Life conquers death. Life wins.
If you look for the empty tomb, you'll see it everywhere.
Like lilies in my garden.
For our dying bodies must be transformed into bodies that will never die; our mortal bodies must be transformed into immortal bodies. Then, when our dying bodies have been transformed into bodies that will never die, this Scripture will be fulfilled: “Death is swallowed up in victory."