Her Story Because of His Story

Many years have passed since that day.

Today marks the anniversary of the first day of the week when I went with spices to anoint the body of my Savior and Lord, the One who had understood my desperation and rid me of seven demons.

 How could I ever repay Him for the new life He brought to me. 

 The least I could do was anoint His body with spices and myrrh--
--the aroma of life He had given to me.

But when I arrived at the sepulcher, He was not there. 

The tomb was my heart--once so full of darkness and death--
-- now flooded with light.

The stone was my sin-- Heavy and impossible for me to move--
 Now rolled away just as my sin had been. 

The soiled linens were the remembrances of past failures--  Now laid aside--
Never to bind again--

Why seek ye the living among the dead?
--my doubts personified--

And then the voice--"Mary"--  

My faith magnified!

His physical appearance I did not recognize--

Upon hearing the voice of tenderness, love and strength

there arose an undeniable quickening in my spirit--

My Savior glorified!

From His Pages
I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. 
That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come.  Eph. 1:18-21

© all photographs and text property of Dianne Hogue unless otherwise noted