🌅 The Gift We Were Given
“Father, forgive them… for they know not what they do.”
— Luke 23:34
Those words were spoken in the middle of brutality.
Men mocked Him. They struck Him. They drove nails through His hands and feet. They divided His garments and cast lots at the foot of the cross. And standing there, in the full weight of what was being done to Him, Jesus did not call down judgment.
He asked for forgiveness.
They truly did not understand what they were doing.
The soldiers did not know they were crucifying the Son of God. The crowd did not realize they were rejecting the very One sent to save them. Even those closest to Him could not yet see the fullness of what was unfolding.
And yet, He knew what would happen. He chose to endure it because innocent blood is the only suitable recompense for an entire world of sin. He gave His own life for all of us.
Every stripe. Every wound. Every breath drawn in agony was endured willingly—for them, and for us. The suffering they inflicted became the means by which healing would be offered, even to those who lifted the hammer.
He carried it all.
And then He was laid in a tomb.
—
Before sunrise on the third day, the earth moved again.
An earthquake shook the ground. An angel descended. The stone—massive, sealed, guarded—was rolled away. The men assigned to secure the tomb fell in fear, powerless to stop what heaven had already declared.
The tomb was empty.
Mary Magdalene stood outside, weeping. Grief still clouded her understanding. When she looked inside, she saw that He was gone, and her heart broke again under the weight of what she thought had been taken.
Then He spoke.
“Mary.”
One word—and everything changed.
She turned and saw Him. Alive. Not imagined. Not remembered. Standing before her.
She became the first to carry the message:
HE IS RISEN!
✝️ CONTINUED IN COMMENTS ⬇️⬇️⬇️
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