Fiction

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He died. I know he died. I watched him die.
I wept an ocean of bitter tears. My heart languished. I dropped to my knees in agony. You see, I love him. What I wouldn’t give to erase that moment from history.
I followed when they took him away. I watched through pent-up tears as they buried him. Shivers raced up my spine. He was gone -- for good. The one man I ever met who taught me true love. Deep love. Not physical. Much deeper.
The love that forgives, hopes, and believes. The love that never fails. The love that beckons to the deepest places of a person’s soul and calls forth all the good it can. That’s the kind of love I found in him.
You see, when I first met him that’s what he showed me. He had every reason to hate me. To shun me. Yes, even to curse me. But he didn’t.
He forgave, releasing me to go and sin no more. He gave me true freedom to live a clean life. From that moment on, I was clean. I was free. I was whole. That’s why I love him so.
Dusk neared. I hurried home, brushing back more tears, my heart racing within. I longed for some way to wake from this nightmare. The one man on earth who truly loved me was gone, and I had to accept it. It nearly killed me. My heart wrenched within, as if ripped by the sharpest of talons. My soul’s anguish nearly suffocated me. I had never felt such intense pain.
Yet, I loved him. So, I composed myself, and quickly prepared my spices for him. I had to bring myself to some semblance of hope again. I had to remember him and all he meant to me. I had to move on.
But I so wanted to run to his body. To lay his cold head in my lap. To pour my oil over him again. I planned just such a rendezvous. Carefully, I blended my spices and oils into just the right mixture. It had to be just right for the man I loved in life or in death.
I remember another time when he allowed a dear soul to anoint him, even pouring her tears over him like raindrops from the clouds above. He welcomed such heartfelt expressions of gratitude. Surely now, if he were alive, he would welcome mine.
Oh, but the darkness closes in like a blanket being draped upon me. Sabbath has begun. Oh, can I wait until Sabbath is over? I treasure God’s commands, but this is destined to be the longest Sabbath I’ve ever endured. Though all others since knowing him have been such a joy, this one seems endless.
By the time it ended, I knew it was too dark to make such a journey. Sleep eluded me again. I tossed and turned in my bed, but the excitement only grew more intense, as I anticipated that moment. Even if he was dead, he was the one man who truly loved me and set me free. Even though I knew he could give me nothing, yet I had to go to him. I had to pour my gratitude over him with every drop of my oil.
Time seemed to ebb away ever so slowly. Moments stretched into the longest of minutes, culminating in a drudgery of hours. Finally, the wee hours of the morning fell upon me.
In spite of the dark, I leapt from my bed and gathered my oils and spices. My friends would meet me along the way. We would go to the garden together.
The garden: a place of life, a place of death. A warm haven, a cold chamber. But I loved it. It was where he was. It drew me. It beckoned me come.
I never considered the stone. Or the soldiers, for that matter. Surely, I was no threat to them. Perhaps they would even help me remove the stone just long enough to pour these spices over him. Hope propelled me forward.
I grew closer, inhaling the brisk air of the morning. The blanket of darkness began to coil backward and unveil the brightness of daylight, but ever so slowly. Yet, I didn’t mind the dim light. Sabbath was past, and I would see him today. I just knew it. Visions of holding his head in my lap and pouring my fragrance over him engulfed my mind. Oh, my heart rejoiced in the thought. I could taste the sweetness of his presence as I drew nearer.
I never imagined what awaited me. I stopped cold. Every bone in my body chilled. What on earth had happened? I could not believe my eyes. Now the shivers of excitement I felt moments ago became pangs of fear.
Where were the guards? And, where was the stone? And, most importantly, where was he? I looked around, and caught sight of something off in a distance. There sat the stone, as if flung by a sudden blast.
I saw the guards. Were they dead? Their lifeless bodies lay prostrate near the tomb’s entrance. Shudders of horror erupted in my mind. Oh, what on earth had happened? Where is the lover of my soul? Where is he? Was this my worst nightmare? Or my greatest joy? I couldn’t bring myself to conceive of either.
I neared the tomb, in spite of my fears. I had to. I loved him. I had to know what happened. I peered in, but couldn’t bear it. He wasn’t there. His precious body was gone. My legs gave way, and I sank to the ground. I never imagined what came next.
I saw him. Perhaps he would know. Perhaps this gardener could tell me. Perhaps he saw something, anything to solve this mystery.
“Sir,“ I called in desperation. “Please, please, tell me. Have you taken him somewhere? Please tell me where he is? I beg you.”
I felt him come closer to me. The whisper sent my mind reeling and my heart racing. Ever so gently came the reply, but my soul felt overcome by an avalanche of emotions. “Mary.”
I have never loved hearing my name more than at that very second. Never did anyone utter it as he did.
Joy exploded within me as if ignited by the flame of his whisper. Fountains of love and hope issued forth as if my heart were a wellspring. I couldn’t hold it in. I didn’t care if the whole world was in audience at that very moment, or if we were completely alone.
He was alive! He lived again. I didn’t understand it, nor did it even matter. Jesus lived again and remembered me. He called me. He beckoned me. He loved me.
I bounded forward toward him, propelled by the force of love and hope. Every dream I had was fulfilled in that very moment. Time could have died forever. I only knew I wanted this moment to last forever. I was near him and he, near me. He lived and loved me. That’s all that mattered.
The dawning of this day overtook the grim nightfall of death just two days earlier. The long, dark Sabbath awakened to abundant life and exuberant joy.
He lives. I know he lives. I see him.
I weep an ocean of joyful tears. He lives, and my heart thrives. You see, I love him. I really love him. So now, I drop to the ground in worship. May this moment live on forever.

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