Easter is the final solution to the finality of death.

A god of the ‘possible’ is no God.

God emptied out that first tomb so that He could turn around and empty out me.

Although I rail against it, death is the dark demarcation beyond which I am at the mercy of my own end. To the contrary, an empty tomb says that my end is at the mercy of God’s beginning.

Easter is the invulnerable tale of utter selflessness where at an inestimable cost God did for us what He did not need done for Himself. And that kind of ‘doing’ happens every day.

My limitations abruptly define the frighteningly negligible extent of my existence, yet my soul utterly perishes if bound by those very same limits. And does this not somehow evidence both the reality of and need for God?

If God has the answer to every question, maybe my appreciation for God should be shaped more by the number of questions and less by the wisdom of the answers.

Of course God does outrageous things. But in reality, what insanity would prompt me to follow a God who did anything less?

Easter says that every ending ever experienced by man is exquisitely crafted to find its own ending at the feet of a fresh beginning.