The week after Rory’s death, there were so many hard things.
One of the most painful was her viewing. Seeing my baby girl. Lifeless.
I took her precious hand between mine for the last time. Her hands that touch my cheeks. Her hands that picked up and loved baby chicks. Her hands that wrapped around my leg when she was scared. Her hands that wrote her name and mine.
But she was empty.
There was no light.
Her spirit was gone.
The girl that beamed and was full of life, was a shell.
But this is where we welcome the hope of Easter.
Our Savior was crucified and His body lay in a tomb.
His body, a shell of the amazing man He once was. His hands that performed miracles. His hands that washed disciples’ feet. His hands that held up children. His hands that brought people to Him. His hands used in service and love.
His hands that are still scarred from the sacrifice He made for me and you.
When Mary went to the tomb on Sunday morning, His body was gone.
His body and spirit were reunited.
Giving me hope.
Rory’s body won’t remain lifeless.
Her body and spirit will be reunited again.
Our Rory will be whole.
Because of Him.