Two words was all it took to bring my devotion to a stop, and me to tears.
The women had gone to the tomb, and as Mark tells it, they were starting to wonder how they’d get into the tomb. After all, the stone was heavy, and the strongest in this band of Jesus followers who may have been able to help weren’t there.
They had long since run away, and as we learn from other narratives in the scripture, had locked themselves away in a room hoping that the last few days had just been a fever dream.
Especially the one Jesus had appointed to lead. That one? He’d crumbled like a cookie, more than stood like a rock.
Clearly, Peter had experienced a particularly rough few days. There was the whole “Jesus called me satan” episode, then the rebuke after he’d tried to defend Jesus by cutting off an attacker’s ear, followed by the regret of having denied Jesus not once, but three times.
