It was early on the third day when I went to the tomb. There had not been sufficient time to anoint his body for burial on the Sabbath, so I brought the spices to properly prepare him for burial, according to custom.
I am Mary, of Magdala. Some call me Mary Magdalene; still others call me Mary the Demoniac. I am fully aware of the names that I am called. It is all right; most do not know quite what to make of me.
It is true-I was a demoniac. At one time, there were seven demons living in me, tormenting my soul. I was prone to violent outbursts, never knowing when they would choose to manifest themselves. I know that it frightened people...it frightened me! I was ostracized, cast out of my village. Eventually, I lost my friends and all of my family. I was utterly alone...except for the demons.
Until He came---Yeshua, Ha'mashiach...the Christ. The one who was crucified. He did not mock me. He did not reject me. He did not cast me away; rather, He looked at me with eyes so full of love, that I could not turn away. And when He touched me...the demons flew! I was healed! Delivered! Instantly! I experienced a freedom like I've never before known.
So, I followed Him. I had nothing to lose. I had already lost my friends, my family and my dignity. I had everything to gain. I watched in awe each time another such as I was cured.
Then we entered Jerusalem, where He was arrested, beaten...crucified. It was a death like nothing I had ever seen before---so violent! It will be forever etched upon my memory.
Watching Him die such a cruel and agonizing death was more than I could bear. How could they do that to Him---my L-RD? He was the only one who ever accepted me.
No one has ever loved me as He did.
So you can imagine the anguish I felt when I got to the tomb and discovered it to be empty. Someone had taken His body and left the linens He'd been dressed in for burial! How could they? I thought. Wasn't it enough for Him to be brutally beaten and to die a most painful and agonizing death? Wasn't that punishment enough? When would the persecution end?
I sat outside the tomb and wept. Suddenly, I heard a voice, "Woman, why are you crying?"
Startled out of my grief, I turned and saw a man dressed in white. I thought he was the gardener. Perhaps he knew where my L-RD's body was.
"Sir, are you the gardener? Please," I implored of him, "if you have taken him, please tell me where you have put him and I will go and get him."
He spoke my name as if he knew me. As...as He did...Yeshua. Surely, I thought, it couldn't be...could it? He said He would rise in three days. Did He indeed rise miraculously from the dead? He raised Lazarus from the dead, why not Himself? Oh, He is alive!
"Rabboni!" I cried. "It is You! You have returned, as you said You would!"
I fell to my knees with the realization that my L-RD, Yeshua, Ha'mashiach, the Messiah, was standing before me. The Living God!
I reached out to touch Him but He told me, "Do not touch me, for I have not yet ascended to my Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, 'I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.'"
He motioned for me to rise.
Once I was dead...emotionally, spiritually...when the demons inhabited my soul...and He raised me to new life. He had now risen from the physical dead.
I was given a task to go.
To proclaim to the others that He is alive!
I grabbed my spice jar and ran to tell the others. I could barely contain myself as I shouted,
"I have seen the L-rd! I have seen the L-rd!"
HAPPY RESURRECTION DAY!!!
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