A First-Hand Story of Easter Morning
(Inspired by Luke 24, and John 20–21)
I couldn’t sleep—not really. I tried. The rooster’s cry still echoed in my soul. I sat alone in that upper room, heart heavy with shame, ears ringing with the sound of my own denial. I had sworn I would die with Him. Instead, I denied I even knew His name… three times.
It was still dark when Mary burst through the door, breathless, eyes wide. “The tomb,” she gasped, “it’s… it’s empty!”
We didn’t wait. John and I tore through the streets, sandals pounding the stone, the air cold and stinging against my face. My chest burned, but I kept running. I had to see for myself.
He got there first. Of course, he did—he’s younger. But he stopped at the entrance. I couldn’t. I shoved past him, stumbled inside. The smell of burial spices still hung in the air. The linen wrappings lay there, folded. No body. No blood. Just silence and stone.
Confusion gripped us. Wonder. Fear. Hope? I didn’t know what to believe. We went back… but Mary stayed.
Later that day, two brothers told us they’d seen Him—alive—on the road to Emmaus. My heart leapt. Could it be? Could the nightmare really be over? Could grace reach even me?
And then He came back for me.
We were locked in, hiding, trembling… when suddenly, He stood there among us. No sound. No door. Just Jesus.
He looked at me. Not past me. Not through me. At me. His eyes didn’t burn with anger—they burned with love.
“Peace be to you,” He said. The same voice that calmed storms now calmed my soul. He showed us His hands, His side. We touched Him. We wept. We laughed. We fell to our knees.
He was alive.
And He came back for me.
Days later, He met me on the shore. I’d gone fishing—I didn’t know what else to do. We caught nothing, like before. Then a voice called from the shore, “Cast your net on the right side.”
It was Him.
He already had breakfast cooking on the fire. The scent of grilled fish and warm bread filled the air, mingled with the sea breeze and my tears. We ate in silence.
Then He asked me, “Simon, do you love Me?”
Three times. One for every denial.
I said yes.
And each time, He answered, “Feed My sheep.”
I thought it was over. I thought I was disqualified.
But He called me still. He came back for me and asked for my love.
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He’s alive, and I’m forgiven. Heaven’s gates are open wide.
And now, every breath I take is for Him. Every word I speak bears His name. I was dead in my shame… but I’ve seen the Lord.
He’s alive.
And He came back for me.
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