The Cross, the Silence, and the Empty Tomb

There’s a quiet power in remembering.

We remember the cross — not just as a symbol, but as a moment that changed everything. A Savior, innocent and full of compassion, choosing to carry the weight of what wasn’t His. There was pain, yes. But there was also love — deep, selfless, and unshakable.

Then came the silence.

The in-between space. The day when heaven seemed still and hope felt far away. It’s a place we all know, even now — waiting rooms, unanswered prayers, quiet grief. But even in silence, God was not absent. The story was still moving forward.

And then, the tomb was empty.

Not just a miracle, but a declaration: death is not the end. Darkness doesn’t win. The stone rolled away was more than proof.  It was an invitation into something new. New beginnings, new hearts, new courage.

We carry this story with us.

Not in loud declarations, but in steady lives. In choosing peace when anxiety knocks. In forgiving when bitterness would be easier. In believing there’s still light even when it’s hard to see. We live it when we choose love that costs us something. When we get back up again. When we dare to hope.

The cross teaches us what love looks like.  

The silence reminds us to trust in the waiting. 

The resurrection shows us that the story isn’t over!