Meeting Me As I Weep – Taking Me To A New Place

John 20:11-18 The Message 

11-13 But Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. As she wept, she knelt to look into the tomb and saw two angels sitting there, dressed in white, one at the head, the other at the foot of where Jesus’ body had been laid. They said to her, “Woman, why do you weep?”

13-14 “They took my Master,” she said, “and I don’t know where they put him.” After she said this, she turned away and saw Jesus standing there. But she didn’t recognize him.

15 Jesus spoke to her, “Woman, why do you weep? Who are you looking for?”

She, thinking that he was the gardener, said, “Mister, if you took him, tell me where you put him so I can care for him.”

16 Jesus said, “Mary.”

Turning to face him, she said in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” meaning “Teacher!”

17 Jesus said, “Don’t cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.’”

18 Mary Magdalene went, telling the news to the disciples: “I saw the Master!” And she told them everything he said to her.


The Message (MSG)

Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson


He called my name,
that tender voice I knew so well.

I knew it was him.

This was no figment of my imagination,
a hallucination in my distress.
This is him – Jesus.

Different, but still my Jesus.

Here with me.
In all that is going on,
and all that will be.
Ever present.
Knowing me.
Loving me.

He stands by me in my weeping
and takes me on.

He is here.

He’s not dead, he’s alive.
He still knows me and calls to me.

I’ve got to go and tell.
They’ve got to know.


I hear you Lord,
calling my name.
Into my confusion,
my despair,
my pain,
my questioning.

You stay with me
in my weeping.
You call my name.
filled with love
and comfort.
Bringing hope
and peace.

I hear you,
find you,
know you afresh.

And in my time
I go
and tell
that you are here.
you are not gone,

you are alive

On this most poignant of Easter days, God remains with us. He has not gone, but stands with us in our weeping and leads us on. Hope dawns again.






The Saturday of Holy Week – Holy Saturday


Matthew 27:57-61 (GNT)

The Burial of Jesus

57 When it was evening, a rich man from Arimathea arrived; his name was Joseph, and he also was a disciple of Jesus. 58 He went into the presence of Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus. Pilate gave orders for the body to be given to Joseph. 59 So Joseph took it, wrapped it in a new linen sheet, 60 and placed it in his own tomb, which he had just recently dug out of solid rock. Then he rolled a large stone across the entrance to the tomb and went away. 61 Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there, facing the tomb.

Gone, But Not Forgotten

I wanted to do this for him,
it was something I could do,
possibly the last thing.

He meant something to me.

Now was the time to come out of the shadows,
be bold,
make a stand
and do what I can.

What do I have to offer to Jesus now,
but my tomb,
my place of death?

After all,
he gave his death
for mine.

We prepared his body,
laid it to rest.

Watching and Waiting

And now we wait
for what next,
in our pain,
our questions,
our anger,
our frustration.

What next Lord?

You have brought us on this journey,
now we are left here.

Where now?
What now?
How now?

What do I have to offer you?

What can I give?

What place do I have
where you can rest?

What can I do?

Where will we go?

What now,

in you,

for you


Holy Saturday. A day of waiting and wondering. A feeling of hopelessness, despair, a time of questioning and hopelessness, when things haven’t panned out as expected. A day of sitting with the pain, not knowing.

The days we all have. The kind of time we’re living through at the moment, when all seems disturbed, unusual heartbreaking and frightening.

A day for acknowledging the frustration and fear. Knowing that God sits with us in the pain and anguish and shares those feelings. There will be these days, they are real – but they are not the end of the story.

Good Friday 2020

I’ve been asked to do the video reflections for our Methodist Circuit this week.

By recording in chunks and with the help of my beloved I have managed to put these together, so I’m sharing them here.

Good Friday is traditionally a day of desolation.  Perhaps this year we feel that sense of desolation more keenly than ever. Perhaps you feel that you have sacrificed a lot, willingly or otherwise we have had to give up so much. We are feeling the pain of separation and our loss of normal.

Today, we can bring all that to the cross.