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A peek inside the tomb on resurrection Sunday

A peek inside the tomb on resurrection Sunday

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God often speaks to me through my imagination. He uses powerful images and pictures to communicate what words cannot describe.

Last Easter Sunday, I had one of these visions. It became a very powerful creative piece that I shared with my readers. I’d like to share it again this year.


Darkness hovered. It grasped at the cold, hewn walls and glided across the bare stone floor. An inky blackness filled the void and suffocated any life that dared to enter into that empty space.

There was nothing left now. Nothing but a hollow, lifeless shell. Even the stale air felt oppressive. The weight of it was crushing. Something that was once meant to be life-giving now did nothing but smother and snuff out all things good.

And then there was the silence. A silence that was so quiet, it seemed loud. The silence screamed into the darkness. It echoed off the walls and tore at the mound of stiff linen. It laughed mockingly. It taunted and boasted of its victory. It expanded and mingled with the darkness. “We have won!” it declared.

Hush, what was that? The silence was cut short.

A sound. An actual sound. So faint. Like a drop of water hitting the surface of a pond. The silence retracted against the cold, stone walls as the sound pierced the void again.

The silence trembled as an echo filled the chamber. Words. How could it be? It wasn’t possible.

The sound slipped through the cramped cavern and shoved the silence out its way. “Let there be,” it whispered.

“No. No!” the silence shouted. “It can’t be! We’ve won!”

“Let there be,” the words echoed.

Now it was the darkness’ turn to shake. The words felt hauntingly familiar. They spoke of antiquity and scrolls filled with ancient dreams.

“Let there be,” the voice was louder.

The darkness grasped at the void, desperately seeking to maintain its hold. This place belonged to them. They would not go without a fight.

“Let there be!” the voice shouted.

The darkness shook but dared not release its grip. The silence was long gone now. The darkness couldn’t bear to lose.

“Let there be!”

“No! No! No!”

“Let there be!”

The darkness pressed itself against every surface and clung to its domain. It felt the world slipping from its grasp.

“Let there be!”

The darkness stiffened. This was it.


A tiny flicker, that’s all it took. It was no bigger than the flame of a candle, but it was enough.

The darkness retreated with a shriek. It could not withstand the light of the world.

The flame settled like a tongue of fire over the linen. There was only one thing left–the stale air–its name was death.

“Let there be,” the voice whispered again.

The linens rustled.

“Let there be.”

The ground trembled.


A gasp. A sharp intake of breath as the wind of life pierced the linen and entered into the man’s nostrils.

The ground shook. The surrounding tomb trembled as the man took a second breath.

A creaking. A scraping. The sound of stone against stone.

With a third breath, the man sat up and began peeling off the strips of stiff linen.

A beam of light pierced through a crack in the rock and spilled over the man’s face. It illuminated his smile as a chuckle escaped his lips. He took another deep breath and rose to stand on shaky legs. His laughter erupted, destroying any silence that remained. The sound of his joy shook the tomb and the stone that sealed his fate rolled away. He inhaled deeply as fresh air entered into the stale cave. A new wind was ushered in from the four corners of the earth.

The man shook the final strips of linen from his feet and took his first cautious steps. He steadied Himself.

Then, He walked out of the tomb.

The word of God had become the light of the world.

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