Now I Am Awake

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

In the darkness, I come to the garden.
The same one where,
just three evenings ago,
I sat a short distance from you
while you prayed
and I fell asleep.
I sit in the same place now.
The fragrance of the flowers
surrounds me as a breeze
plays through the branches and vines.
There is a thick quiet in the air this evening,
and all I hear is the breeze and
the barking of a dog in the distance.
It is good weather for thinking.

So much has happened
in such a short amount of time.
You told us so many things,
things that were to come.
We did not understand them.
And then, the Betrayer came,
kissed your face,
and soldiers led you away.
What were we to do?
We just let them take you
because you wouldn't let us attack.
So we watched in horror
as you were led to your doom.

The next day...
I don't know if I want to replay that yet.
I could not look upon your tortured body,
the depth of sadness in your eyes.
And yet you still forgave them?
We watched as you breathed your last.
And then we ran.
We hid.
Because...what did it all mean?
Were you who you had said you were?
If you were, you shouldn't have died.
...right?

So we sat in our sorrows,
neither eating nor drinking,
checking the locks every hour,
peering out the window
lest the soldiers arrive on our doorstep,
and we tried to process,
tried to figure out what to do next.
But we couldn't.
None of us had any idea where to go from there.
We were still reeling in shock
and fear and anger and sorrow.

And then this morning...
This morning, Mary showed up,
shouting about seeing you,
yelling about you being alive.
We couldn't believe it at first,
after everything we had seen
in the past three days.

And yet—

the tomb was empty.
And then you showed up.
Here, with us.

You—
you unearthly, otherworldly,
mystical God-man,
you—
You are alive!
Somehow, by the power of God,
you
are
alive.

And now, I sit here beneath this tree,
where I sat three nights ago
and fell asleep in despair.
I cannot fall asleep now.

For now, I am awake
with hope and wonder.
Now,
I am
awake.