Yoder: He is Risen, Indeed!

By Kathy Yoder

When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb and they asked each other, “Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?”

But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter, ‘He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you’” (Mark 16:1-7).

He is risen! He is risen, indeed!

The women approached the tomb with heavy hearts, expecting death, but found life. A truth that can shatter our darkest moments. Their fear turned to awe as they grasped the miracle: Jesus was alive. This isn’t just an Easter proclamation; it’s a reality we’re called to live every day, letting it ignite our hearts with praise and courage.

The empty tomb reveals Jesus as the Son of God, sent to bear our sins, die as our sacrifice, and triumph over death. Just as He called Lazarus from the grave, He broke death’s chains for us. John 11:25 echoes this promise: “I am the resurrection and the life.” Yet how often do we linger in the tomb’s shadows? Why do we roll the stone back over our hearts, living as if Jesus remains on the cross? Too often, we carry guilt, fear, or control, forgetting the freedom of His victory.

I lived that way for years, a believer who loved Jesus but kept my heart’s door half-closed. I feared surrendering fully, unsure what it might cost. That changed one night in the hospital with my husband, Dave, seventeen years ago. His chronic leukemia had turned acute, though we didn’t yet know it. His pain was unbearable, like calling a hurricane a breeze. As he groaned, I felt helpless, my heart breaking with every labored breath. I whispered, “Lord, I can’t endure this. Help me.” It was a desperate plea from my soul, raw and unfiltered.

In that moment, a peace I couldn’t explain steadied me. Jesus was there, not as a distant Savior, but as a living, loving presence holding us both. His strength pulsed through my fear, like a quiet anchor in a storm. Time slowed, and watching Dave suffer was intimate, excruciating. I wanted to shut out the pain, to run from it. But instead, I walked through a spiritual door. On the other side was Jesus, seeing me as I truly was: dressed in grave clothes, clinging to self-reliance, not fully trusting the empty tomb’s promise.

That night transformed me, but the journey didn’t end there. Six months later, Dave was gone, called home to the Savior we both loved. His death left a void I couldn’t fathom, yet the memory of that hospital night became my lifeline. I wondered why God spared Dave the recollection of his pain but left me to carry it. Slowly, I understood: that night was my awakening. Jesus used it to roll the stone from my heart, inviting me to live fully in His resurrection power.

In the years since, I’ve faced moments of doubt and grief. Times when the tomb’s shadows seemed to creep back. But Jesus has been faithful, teaching me to throw off my grave clothes one layer at a time. I’ve learned to trust Him in the small steps—writing devotionals, sharing my story, praying through tears. Each act of surrender opens my heart wider, letting His light pour in. The women at the tomb didn’t just see an empty grave; they met a risen Lord who sent them to share the news. That’s our calling too. To live boldly as witnesses of His life.

What stone blocks your heart today? Is it fear, like the women’s as they approached the tomb? Is it grief, like mine after losing Dave? Perhaps it’s shame or a wound you’ve buried deep. Jesus stands at your heart’s door, ready to roll that stone away. He’s not a Savior confined to history; He’s alive, walking with you through every pain, redeeming every loss. Take a step toward Him. Pray that desperate prayer. Trust His promise in John 14:6: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” Let His resurrection power change you, just as it changed me.

Don’t linger in the tomb. Step into the light of the risen Christ. Proclaim it with your life, your words, your love: He is risen, indeed!

Kathy Yoder is a devotional writer sharing the hope of the empty tomb. Reach her at Kathyyoder4@gmail.com or Kathyyoder.com.