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Mary Magdalene's thoughts on Easter Sunday afternoon

Updated: Oct 6



I went to see them this morning

These men who knew Jesus too


He’d ask me to go to them

They seemed like the obvious ones to share this amazing story with


They couldn’t hear it though

Wouldn’t hear it


I don’t know if it was me or the message they were choosing to reject

But they couldn’t take on board what I was trying to tell them


And that so crushed the joy that had surged in me.


They might have been more inclined to believe if it had been the witness of more than one


But, it wouldn’t have been the same

It was a such an intimate moment

One where he held me

And told me

He wasn’t sure what had happened to him

When he woke again that morning

He felt like he might be alive again

But feared he might be some kind of ghost


He only knew he was truly alive again

Truly risen

When he had been seen, held, touched

By me

Whom he knew and loved,

And who knew him and loved him too

Perhaps most of all.


I wanted so much to stay there,

To hear him, hold him, talk to him,

Dance with him,

Be with him


He told me there would be time for that,

But for now

He needed me to be strong,

Not to cling


To go to the others

And tell them he would be going back to his Father and Our Father, to His God and Ours


Why would he trust me with this amazing good news?

Because of the connection between us,

It’s special

I know that

That he’d come to me first bears that out…


But not when the questions spin in my head

Was I just imagining it?

Am I mad after all?

Do my demons really exist?

Was it a play on my mind?

Did it never happen?

Why would he come to me?

Why won’ they listen?

Where else can I go?

Who else can I go to?

What did he hope could happen by telling me first?


How can I be a witness to what I’ve seen and heard if no-one will listen

Not even those who first helped me hear?

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